The Power of Love
by Philosophize
Summary: Yule Ball Panic sequel: Jasmine Potter revealed her feelings to Hermione, who is willing to give dating a try; but wizarding culture won't tolerate witches as couples. How will they navigate love and a relationship while dealing with Voldemort, bigotry, and meddling old men? Includes growing power, new revelations, ancient conflicts, and hidden prophecies. fem!Harry; femslash; H/Hr
1. I Kissed a Witch

**A/N** : Here it is, the sequel to "Yule Ball Panic." If you haven't read that, I recommend you do so — this will make a lot more sense. Thanks to all those who have reviewed, followed, and favorited this story. And a special thanks to Mainsail and Bonnie for beta reading this story and thus making it better than it was originally. If you have questions about what's going on, feel free to add them to a review — I'll try to answer. And don't be shy about reviewing just because the story is done. I like to see what people think various chapters and scenes.

MadameNyx gave permission to use her original artwork as the cover art. What you see here is a cropped version. You can view the complete and original art on her DeviantArt page. You can get the link for her page on my profile

 **Disclaimer** : I don't own Harry Potter, JKR does. If I did own Harry Potter, would I be posting stories here? Then again, that is an interesting thought. What if JKR really were an author here, posting stories. You know, just to f*** with us? And if she were, she wouldn't tell us. She'd put up a disclaimer. Like this one. But I'm not her. Honest!

 **Recommendation:** Story recommendation for this chapter is "Heart and Soul" by Sillimaure. Like my story, Sillimaure's develops the plot and relationships slowly and carefully. It also does a good job at revealing both the positive and negative aspects of Dumbledore's and Snape's characters. It's a long fic, but well worth reading.

* * *

 **Chapter 01 - I Kissed a Witch**

 **Thursday, December 10, 1994, Early Afternoon.**

Hermione Granger was at a total loss for words — a condition she was completely unfamiliar with. Well, she _had_ been completely unfamiliar with it, but it had happened to her several times now over the past hour or so. It was hardly surprising that it all occurred in connection to her first and best friend, Jasmine Potter. If there was one thing Jasmine was good at, it was getting Hermione into unique and difficult situations.

Jasmine wasn't any better at the moment, staring back at her with a small smile on her face and a growing brightness in her eyes. Hermione was certain that the look on her friend's face was being reflected back on her own. Despite having always avoided serious thoughts about romance or dating, she had just received her first kiss. What's more, that first kiss was from a girl!

After having revealed that she fancied Hermione, Jasmine had suggested kissing to see whether the feelings could be returned. _It was loads better than my idea of going as a couple to the Yule Ball as a test of whether I could see girls as potential romantic partners,_ Hermione realized. _Jasmine was right: a kiss is not only much smaller than a date, it's much more significant. That wasn't a casual kiss, however short it may have been. It isn't something I can ignore or walk away from._

Since she had long suppressed romantic feelings, Hermione had never truly focused her thoughts on boys, so she considered that it might indeed be possible that she could experience attraction to girls... or at least to Jasmine. Contrary to all preconceptions, she actually liked the kiss. In fact, she liked it enough that she decided that going to the Yule Ball as Jasmine's date might be more interesting than she originally imagined.

Assuming Jasmine asked her properly, of course.

At this point, it dawned on Hermione that being at a loss for words wasn't so bad because maybe words weren't appropriate to this situation. _First_ , she thought, _I should confirm my new findings by repeating the experiment. Just to be certain that the first time wasn't a fluke. For science!_

Unlike with their first kiss, the girls moved into their second kiss with much less hesitation. Also unlike last time, Hermione was quick to return the kiss, making it far more mutual and thus more enjoyable for both. Too caught up in the unfamiliar sensations, neither noticed a slight, glowing light that briefly appeared to radiate out from the centers of both of their chests — blue from Hermione and green from Jasmine.

For each of the girls, the glowing light grew to the point of encompassing a small portion of their chests before the two witches separated and the glow disappeared. Had someone been there and looked closely, they might have been able to see small, wispy tendrils starting to stretch out from each glowing ball of light towards the other.

This time, Jasmine wasn't at a loss for words. "Brilliant!"

Hermione's smile grew at the breathy declaration and she quickly agreed. "Brilliant is right, and I'm pretty sure that it'll get better with practice."

This caused Jasmine's eyes to light up as she grinned. "Practice? I like the sound of that..."

"Honestly, Jas," Hermione said as she rolled her eyes, "we have other things we need to deal with right now. Kissing isn't the most important thing on our list."

"It's not?" the redhead asked with a pout as she leaned in again slightly. "Are you sure?"

Staring back into her friend's green eyes, Hermione didn't feel so sure anymore. Her heart started to race, her stomach did a funny little flip, and she couldn't concentrate on solving the problem they faced. She was... _distracted_. She didn't normally like distractions from her work, but she feared this new distraction from Jasmine was going to plague her. Against her better judgment (which for some reason had hung out a sign reading "Gone for the Holidays"), Hermione also started leaning in again and closed her eyes...

 **Bang! Bang!**

Both girls pulled apart so fast, they might as well have apparated to opposite sides of the room. Hearts racing, they looked around trying to figure out where the sudden noise had come from.

 **Bang! Bang! Bang!**

"It's the door," Hermione said with a huff. "Someone wants in but of course can't get past my spells." Jasmine worked to straighten out her hair while Hermione rushed over to the door where she undid her spells and opened it. Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil, two of their roommates for the past three years, stood outside.

"What the hell, Hermione? Why'd you lock us out of our room? We've been trying to get in for ten minutes!"

"Sorry, Lavender... uh, I was talking with Jasmine about the tournament and... didn't want to be disturbed."

Neither girl seemed mollified by that answer as they pushed their way past Hermione and into the dorm where Parvati took up the thread of complaint. "That's no excuse, there are lots of places to talk alone. This is our dorm as much as it is yours. We were about to go get McGonagall."

"That's my fault," Jasmine said. "I had an idea about how to handle the screeching egg and didn't want to risk it disturbing people elsewhere — we're not sure what sort of sound it's making. Since there was no one here, Hermione decided to silence and seal the door to protect others from the sound. We spent longer on it than we intended. Sorry about that." Jasmine was staring at the floor in an attempt to hide her blushing at having been nearly caught.

Mentioning the golden egg which Jasmine had acquired in the first task had the desired effect. Lavender and Parvati didn't like being locked out of their room, but they already had one experience hearing that egg screech and didn't want seconds. "Well, that was nice of you... I guess. But next time leave a note or something outside the door, OK?" Lavender didn't ask if they were successful and neither did Parvati. Nor did they appear to care. Both girls had shunned first Jasmine for allegedly cheating to get into the tournament, and then Hermione for sticking by her friend.

Jasmine and Hermione were certain that the two gossip queens had also spread malicious rumors about Jasmine during the month before she faced the dragon. Then, like so many other students after the first task, they had tried to pretend that everything was fine and to go back to how things were before Halloween, as if no one had done anything wrong. They seemed to expect Jasmine and Hermione to instantly forgive everyone and let bygones be bygones, regardless of what they had done or whether they showed the slightest bit of remorse.

Instead of going along with that plan, Jasmine and Hermione had been cold in their responses to people. They had made a point of being polite and civil, but they had refused to show any warmth and used as few words as possible. It would be hard enough for them to forgive those who apologized, but few enough did even that. The fact that neither of them, but especially Hermione, had been popular with lots of friends meant that the only thing which changed was that the two Gryffindors had basically given up on trying to fit in.

Hermione argued that the lack of apologies was because wizards and witches didn't like to admit to being wrong and so ignored evidence of error or wrongdoing. Jasmine disagreed and argued instead that wizards and witches tended to ignore _anything_ that contradicted their preferences or assumptions — including but not limited to their own personal mistakes.

Hermione thought Jasmine was being too cynical; Jasmine thought Hermione was being too naive.

"You're right, you're absolutely right. We'll be more considerate in the future. C'mon Jas." Hermione rushed over to her friend and, grabbing her arm in one hand while with the other scooping up their book bags, rushed back to the door and out of the dorm. If Lavender and Parvati noticed that this was the friendliest the other two had been since Halloween, despite the fact that this was an argument, neither made any mention of it.

* * *

"Where are we going, Hermione, and do we really need to get there so fast?" Jasmine was certain that her arm was going to be wrenched out of its socket any second. She was happy to get out of the dorm and avoid any further discussion with Lavender and Parvati, but she wished they could have left with a bit more dignity.

"Sorry, Jas. I just... you know I'm not a good liar, and I didn't think I'd be able to keep the story going if we stayed there any longer. Besides, if we're going to talk to Professor McGonagall, we should do it tonight after dinner — but we can't do that unless we try to schedule a meeting with her first. I thought we'd send her an owl with a message. That way she'd get it in private and no one would wonder why we're scheduling a meeting. The fewer people who know anything about what's going on, the better."

Hermione then stopped so quickly that Jasmine ran right into her, almost sending both sprawling on the floor. Spinning around, the brunette witch looked intently at her friend and said, "Wait, you said before that you have doubts about Professor McGonagall. Why? What doubts? What brought that on? She's our Head of House, Deputy Headmistress, and our professor. How could you not trust her? Is there something else mmmpph!" Hermione's rant was suddenly cut off by a quick but intense kiss from Jasmine.

Instead of continuing to rant, the bushy-haired witch simply gaped at her friend. "That's a much better way of getting you to stop than trying to talk over you... good thing no one else is in the hall right now, though." Jasmine looked around and, seeing an empty classroom close by, pulled her still-dazed friend in behind her. Without saying a word, Hermione applied the same silencing and privacy spells to the classroom door that she had earlier applied to their dorm door. Turning around, she glared at her friend, stamped her foot in frustration, and simply said, "Ugh! Honestly!" She then sat down at the closest desk, crossed her arms, and waited expectantly for Jasmine to talk.

Sighing, Jasmine said, "I'm sorry for cutting off what must have seemed like a perfectly good rant, but once you get going it's hard to get a word in edgewise. You've gotten better about that sort of thing, no doubt, but sometimes..." Jasmine suddenly looked a bit sheepish. "Well, to be perfectly honest, once the idea occurred to me I couldn't resist." Hermione's eyes narrowed a little, but the slight upturn at the corners of her mouth told Jasmine she wasn't _really_ mad at the kiss. She was annoyed about currently being denied information.

"OK, first you have to understand that there's no one, single, massive incident that has caused me to feel suspicious about Professor McGonagall. It's a lot of things that have built up over the years, but they seem to have increased this year. Or maybe the latest incidents have simply been the straw the broke the camel's back? I don't know. I've had an awful lot on my mind and haven't had a chance to organize it all."

Jasmine stopped for a minute to gather her thoughts, then continued. "I guess I'll start at the beginning. Do you remember the incident with Hagrid's dragon? Of course you do. I won't go into how many points she took from us — I say it was ridiculously excessive and caused a lot of needless harassment from our Gryffindor "family," but points can be subjective. Instead, consider the detention she gave us. We were sent into the Forbidden Forest — you know, that place that Dumbledore warns us about at the beginning of every school year? Supposed to be, oh, I dunno, _forbidden_?" Jasmine didn't notice Hermione's frown at the sarcasm and kept going.

"We weren't gathering potion ingredients, we were hunting a creature so dark, so fast, and so strong that it could take down and kill unicorns. Unicorns! Who sends firsties to hunt down a unicorn killer? We were chaperoned by Hagrid — a strong guy, but what little magic he can do, he can't do it well; and even then, it's illegal for him. On top of that, we split up, leaving me alone with Draco Malfoy, the incredible bouncing ferret, and Fang, the cowardly dog! I would have been lucky to survive that night no matter what we encountered, be it Voldemort or something else, and it was McGonagall who put us in harm's way!" Hermione started biting her bottom lip, considering the implications of what Jasmine was telling her. Being given sound reasons to distrust her favorite professor was not sitting well with her.

"At the end of first year we tried to warn McGonagall that someone was about to steal the Philosopher's Stone, but she refused to believe us. Granted, three firsties aren't the most credible witnesses, but given how important the stone was, I think she had an obligation to at least check — it's not like a quick stop in the third floor corridor would have required a lot of time or taken her away from some more important crisis. Had she checked, it would have saved us a lot of trouble."

Hermione frowned as she pondered this, and Jasmine was happy to see that her argument wasn't being rejected outright.

"In second year, you remember how nearly everyone in the castle treated me: some were terrified of me, some hated me, and some were both. You were the only one who was fully on my side. Even Ron gave me some suspicious glances. He _wanted_ to support me, but he couldn't help having doubts — probably a sign of how deeply ingrained certain wizarding prejudices are, even with a family like the Weasleys. Well, why didn't McGonagall say or do anything about it? She certainly knew about it. Sure, Dumbledore should have said and done something too: as headmaster, what happens in Hogwarts is ultimately his responsibility. But McGonagall is both Deputy Headmistress and our Head of House, making her more personally responsible for my well being than the headmaster is. At the very least, she should have had a meeting with our house to address the rumors. If I'd had the support of all Gryffindor, it might have been easier to endure the hostility of the rest of the school. Some 'family,' huh?"

None of this was new to either girl, but reciting it aloud was clearly making Jasmine angry. By the end, she was practically growling. "But she didn't. I needed her, but she never said anything. She never even came to me privately to express her concern or ask how I was doing. Certainly showed no interest in my home life..." She had to take a few deep breaths to get her anger under control before continuing.

Hermione wanted to point out that Jasmine could have gone to their head of house herself, but realized that that probably wasn't how Jasmine's mind worked. _Growing up, did she learn to trust adults? Probably not. I learned to trust and rely on adults, but since adults never helped her, she wouldn't have learned to ask them for help. I guess it's a small miracle that she's learned to rely on the couple of friends she's made. Come to think of it, it's amazing that she trusted me enough to admit her feelings earlier... Jasmine_ _ **never**_ _likes to talk about her feelings. Any feelings. And then to simply kiss me in the middle of the corridor! That's so unlike her._

This gave Hermione pause as she considered how Jasmine would interpret current events in the light of past experiences. _I see recent failings as aberrations, but Jasmine sees failings as confirming what she learned through ten years at the Dursleys. I see exceptions; Jasmine insists there's a pattern. Maybe she's right?_

Finally having collected herself, Jasmine continued, "Third year wasn't too bad. There were no awful experiences where McGonagall failed me; at the same time, though, she didn't **do** anything for me either. Like in previous years, she never asked how I was doing or if I needed anything. I have to admit, though, that that's not something I realized at the time. It's only something that I've come to recognize in hindsight. I never got a lot of help or support from teachers in muggle schools, so having the same experience here wasn't something I gave much thought to." Hermione was surprised to hear this level of insight from her friend. _Maybe she's matured a lot more than I realized..._

"This year has been the worst yet, even worse than second year. Not a single member of the staff has stood up for me or defended me against accusations of cheating. None of them has defended either of us against the rampant harassment and bullying. As before, Dumbledore certainly should have, but McGonagall as our Head of House has had a more immediate and personal obligation to do so. She hasn't called any house meetings. She hasn't initiated any private conversations."

"Then, earlier today, when she dumped on me the news that I must have a date to start off the ball, she refused to listen to any of my objections! Instead, she insisted that "tradition" was more than enough justification to force me into this and then had the gall to tell me to learn how to dance so I don't make the school or our house look bad! Yeah, as if we hadn't already been made to look bad by the fact that my name was illegally entered and then by the way I've been treated by everyone! She places greater importance and value on me dancing well than on you and me not being attacked or bullied!"

 _Thank Merlin for the strength of my silencing spells_ , Hermione thought as Jasmine's rant descended into shouting. Not thinking further about everything she had heard, Hermione focused on what was immediately important: Jasmine's deteriorating mood. Hermione had asked for this explanation and so felt partially responsible for the anger it produced. Jumping up out of her chair, she rushed over to her friend and pulled her into a tight hug.

Jasmine relaxed for several minutes into Hermione's embrace, breathing in deeply while her face was covered by Hermione's hair; the bushy hair tickled her nose, but as always, it was the most relaxing and comforting place she knew of. Hermione had become infamous among those closest to her for her tight, rib-cracking hugs — "Hermihugs," as Jasmine termed them once before being chased out of the common room by a series of stinging hexes from the bushy-haired witch's wand.

This time, though, Jasmine felt that there was a different quality to the hug. It was tight, no doubt about it, but she could feel an undercurrent of affection and other, undefined emotions that she didn't normally detect during her usual gasps for breath.

"I'm sorry," Hermione started apologizing, "I can't believe that I never put all of that together. You're right that when it's all laid out like that, rather than looked at in isolation, it's pretty damning." Hermione wasn't sure how to continue, because she didn't have a backup for her idea of going to Professor McGonagall.

"I have to tell you, though, that Professor McGonagall has always been receptive to me when I've gone to her for help or advice. I've always looked up to her and tried to emulate her. And it doesn't look like she has ever actively worked _against_ you, at least not that we've ever seen. She's not like Professor Snape." Jasmine couldn't deny this, but the idea that McGonagall had provided more help to other students reignited some of her anger.

"There's no denying that Professor McGonagall has failed you badly, but I don't think it's due to malice. If it's not due to malice, then perhaps it's a mistake or a misunderstanding — and in that case, it can be rectified. Maybe she can explain or apologize and do better. That would put her on the road to being trustworthy, yes? And if she can be trusted, she'd be the best member of staff for us to deal with, right?"

Jasmine had to think about that for a couple of minutes and finally concluded that Hermione was right. Whatever McGonagall's problems with her were, she didn't hate the Girl Who Lived as Snape so obviously did. And if she could be trusted, then it would be better to have their Head of House to rely upon than anyone else. If only that had truly been the case since the beginning of her time at Hogwarts!

"I suppose..." Jasmine said slowly.

Hermione reached out and grabbed her hand. "Don't forget that I'll be there, too. No matter what happens, we'll be able to handle it together. Right?"

This made Jasmine smile. "Right. But that means that we will have a lot more to do in this meeting, as if it weren't already important. Will we have enough time?"

Biting her lip in thought for a moment, she replied, "Yes, I think so — it's Thursday, and in the past I've usually found her grading essays and doing other paperwork on Thursday evenings, especially this term." After looking at her watch, she added, "We have enough time to write a message and send it out before lunch ends, then we have to get through a double lesson of DADA. It won't be until dinner, I think, that we'll learn if she'll meet with us."

Rolling her eyes, Jasmine was once again dragged along by Hermione as the manic witch quickly undid her spells from the classroom door and rushed back out into the hall to continue their mad journey up to the castle's owlery. Once there and after greeting Hedwig, Hermione helped Jasmine write out a letter to Professor McGonagall which the familiar was instructed to deliver only to the professor and only when she was alone. Hand-in-hand, both witches then hurried back down the stairs to catch the end of lunch.

* * *

Sitting in her office after lunch, Minerva McGonagall was surprised to see Jasmine Potter's snowy owl come flying in through her open window. Mail normally came during meal times, but even so, it was practically unheard of for a student to send owl mail to a professor while both were in the castle at the same time. This unusual delivery portended an unusual message, piquing her curiosity.

After handing the owl a treat, McGonagall opened the parchment and frowned at the message. _Miss Potter has an important personal issue that she needs to discuss with me as her Head of House and needs to do it as soon as possible, preferably this very evening after dinner?_ Her first reaction was to assume that this had to do with the discussion she had with her Gryffindor witch a couple of hours earlier — the girl was rather put out at having to attend the ball with a date, and McGonagall had been taken a bit aback at how strongly she complained. She wasn't used to hearing such a disrespectful attitude and tone from any of her lions.

She reconsidered, though, when she reread the message and noted that the girl specifically referenced a need to speak to her "Head of House." After reflecting on the contents, she realized that it probably related to something personal, and since it was the first time she had come to her Head of House with such a matter, it was likely important as well.

Looking at her schedule for the day, she noted that she only had her usual Thursday evening paperwork ahead of her, so she should be able to accommodate her student, even if it turned out to be a lengthy meeting. Nodding to herself and deciding to send the girl a positive response at dinner, she returned to revising her lesson plan for her afternoon Transfiguration classes.

* * *

 **Thursday, December 10, 1994, Evening.**

Having dropped off their books back in their dorms, Jasmine and Hermione walked side-by-side towards the Great Hall for dinner. If they noticed that they walked a bit closer together and brushed up against each other a bit more often, neither said anything. Then again, both were preoccupied with their own thoughts about everything that had already happened today and how much more they had to contend with before the day ended.

The two young witches had very similar yet also very different thoughts. Both were surprised at how much had happened. Both were a bit intimidated at how much their relationship was changing. Both were also hopeful about how their relationship might proceed while still being fearful at how that relationship might be perceived.

The differences were probably more significant than the similarities. Hermione was mostly confused. She was confused about why Jasmine would fancy her of all people — hearing Jasmine recite all her good qualities didn't cause her to suddenly believe it. She was also confused about her own sexuality: she might not have previously given romance any serious thought, but if asked, she'd have answered that she was straight. Was that solely because of society's expectations and norms? And she was confused about the actions of Professor McGonagall over the past three years. She had always looked up to and respected their Head of House, but now she wasn't so sure. Even if it were all a horrible misunderstanding, the woman had failed significantly, and Hermione wouldn't be able to respect her nearly as much for a while.

Jasmine, in contrast, was feeling unexpectedly confident — more confident than she had ever been before, in fact. She always felt a bit better when she knew Hermione was by her side, but this change in their relationship seemed to bring the other witch closer to her, and that boosted her confidence by quite a bit. Jasmine was feeling more optimistic about the tournament, about her future, and about her life in general. For a girl who grew up living in a cupboard, denied not only sufficient food but also even the tiniest amount of love and affection, this represented a massive shift in attitude. On top of it all, Jasmine also thought she felt a bit more powerful magically. During their double DADA lesson, the spells they practiced came easier to her and hit her partner with a bit greater force.

Thus distracted, they walked into the Great Hall without noticing that quite a few more people were paying closer attention to them than usual — including Draco Malfoy.

* * *

 **A/N** : Just to get this out of the way, because I expect to have questions and even perhaps complaints in reviews: yes, that was a "soul bond" being started. I know that the concept is overused and even badly used, but I hope I can reassure skeptical readers that I'll be using the concept in a way that is a bit different from most.

First, the bond is gradual rather than instant. It takes a while to get established and develops in stages as their relationship develops. It is, in fact, based on their relationship rather than the other way around. So, second, it "improves upon" rather than "creates _ex nihilo_." It encourages and strengthens a relationship, it doesn't create love out of nothing. It doesn't make them magically married by chapter 3. It doesn't mean that a couple won't argue and won't have to put in work to make a relationship successful, but it can make the work a little easier. Finally, it's part of a continuum of magical bonds, so it's not some weird "deus ex machina" device. There are similar bonds that are even more common. And, like all magic, it has both benefits and potential costs. If you don't treat it right, it can turn around and bite you.

Why am I using the concept? First, I find it interesting. Second, this is a story about magical people in a magical community learning magic. Inserting magic here as well makes sense to me. Third, it will play an important role in the overall plot beyond the romance. The exact mechanism won't be explained until near the end, but you will see its effects before long.

The simplest reason is that it is, indeed, a shortcut. A completely realistic story would require showing _years_ of their lives. Jasmine has to overcome some years of repressed sexuality, not to mention more than a decade of abuse and neglect. Hermione is facing difficult questions about her sexuality — what's genuinely "her" and what is a product of social expectations? Is she gay? Bi? Is she simply attracted to Jasmine? Is she perhaps leaping at the first person making an offer? Yeah, it would take a long time for the two of them to deal with all of that baggage and I would probably never finish. A "soul bond" lets me cut through some of it in order to make the characters' lives a bit easier.

If I do a good job as a writer, then I'll use this plot device just enough, but not too much (relationship-wise). I'll cut out the boring therapy sessions, the long evenings crying over tubs of ice cream, and similar bits that are part of reality, but not often part of interesting stories. What should be left are the more interesting bits — ups and downs that happen in real relationships, but with reduced angst and trauma for the sake of efficiency and short attention spans. If I do a good job as a writer, then it shouldn't _detract_ from the plot and relationship developments. Do let me know if I succeed or fail.


	2. Belling the Cat

**Recommendation:** Story recommendation for this chapter is "Vox Corporis" by MissAnnThropic. If you're a Harry/Hermione fan, you should already be familiar with this story.

* * *

 **Chapter 02 - Belling the Cat**

 **Thursday, December 10, 1994, Evening.**

When the two Gryffindor witches walked into the Great Hall for dinner that evening, it was technically their second meal as a couple — though lunch barely counted given how little time they'd had to wolf something down. To be fair, they weren't announcing themselves as a couple yet, but they still _felt_ like a couple.

Things they had done together thousands of times before now suddenly looked new and different, simply because they were doing them as a couple rather than as two separate individuals who happen to be together. _Well, that's not entirely true, is it?,_ Hermione mused to herself. _The two of us — three, when Ron was with us — were a team for most of the past three years. Jasmine and I weren't a romantic couple, but we were far more than two individuals or even two friends, weren't we?_

All of a sudden, Hermione became very self-conscious and wondered if people could tell, even if neither she nor Jasmine had said or done anything overt yet. _Can they see it in my face? Are we standing too close? Is someone going to jump up, point their finger, and start making accusations?_

Draco Malfoy, of course, was all too happy to oblige Hermione's worries, although not quite for the reasons she was afraid of: "Hey, scarhead! Who are you going to pay to go to the Yule Ball with you? Do you even have enough galleons to pay someone to do that?" Jasmine stiffened as soon as she heard Malfoy's grating, sneering voice. "At least you have a chance at buying a decent date; that's better than your mudblood friend can say. Maybe she can rent herself out, assuming anyone would be that desperate." Malfoy's comments were accompanied by jeering laughter from the Slytherins and more than a few snickers from the Ravenclaw table.

Jasmine wasn't conscious of drawing her wand, but on her right Hermione felt the movement and was able to put her hand firmly on her friend's arm to keep her from maiming or possibly killing the pureblood bigot. "Don't, Jas," she hissed. "He's not worth it!" She could feel the auburn-haired witch trembling in anger as she pulled hard to direct her over to the Gryffindor table. It wasn't unusual for Jasmine to get upset at things Malfoy said, but this struck Hermione as far worse than usual.

Glancing sideways at her, she thought she could see her eyes almost glowing in barely-contained power, but when she blinked it was gone. _Must have been a trick of the light_ , she decided. _I think. I don't know where this level of anger is coming from, but I'll need to get her to control it._

The two witches sat on the farthest side of the hall away from the Slytherins; that meant having to face the Slytherin table on the opposite side of the hall, but looking at the Slytherins was preferable to having their backs to them. Across from them Neville Longbottom and Ginny Weasley had already started dishing out their own dinners and looked with concern at their two friends.

"Is everything alright?" Neville asked. Looking specifically at Jasmine, he said, "You look... a little upset."

Judging by how violently Jasmine was flinging food on her plate, she probably wouldn't be able to put together a coherent thought for a bit, so Hermione answered for them both. "It's been a hectic day. You know of course that there will be a Yule Ball in a couple weeks; well, Jasmine was told after Transfiguration that she's required to go because it's 'tradition' for champions to open the ball with a formal dance." Neville grimaced at the thought. He was still having trouble dealing with the idea that he had an _option_ to ask someone to go with him.

"Obviously, this means that Jasmine is required to have a date," Hermione continued. "She can't skip it, even if it's not an official tournament event. She can't come alone, even though everyone else is allowed to. She's been in a right state all day, and then Malfoy had to vent his vile little spleen as soon as we came in here."

"Well, that explains why Jasmine is getting all stabby with her food," said Ginny a bit nervously. "Do you think we should take away the sharp utensils until she calms down?"

"Not unless Malfoy is stupid enough to come over here before dinner ends," Hermione said brusquely. _Could that be it?_ she thought to herself. _Is she so angry because so many things happened at once? But she wasn't_ _ **angry**_ _earlier, she was_ _ **panicked**_ … _._

"Yeah, and when was the last time Malfoy was known for his brains or self-preservation instincts?" Neville asked, interrupting her train of thought. "This is the same Slytherin who thought it was funny to insult a Hippogriff before approaching it, remember?"

Hermione's fork paused halfway to her mouth and she sat there with her mouth open for a moment before responding, "Nah, he's not that stupid. Right?"

The sole response to that was the "clank, clank" of Jasmine stabbing her food while glaring daggers in the direction of the Slytherin table. Ginny and Neville were growing increasingly nervous, so Hermione poked her friend hard in the side with her elbow, breaking her out of her cycle of rage. Jasmine looked over at the bushy-haired witch, blinked a couple of times, and exhaled deeply. "Sorry about that. I'm not sure what exactly came over me. It's not like he hasn't insulted us before."

"You need to watch your anger, Jas. Despite being a champion, you're not immune from punishment if you hurt Malfoy badly. Well...at least, I don't think you are. It's true you're exempt from classes and end-of-year exams." Hermione stopped to consider that for a moment. "Come to think of it, we were never given a copy of the tournament rules like we asked for, were we? We've got to get that to see what exactly you are and are not allowed to do."

"Yeah, but you know what's especiallyinteresting, Hermione?" Jasmine waited as her friend raised in eyes in response. "Malfoy used the m-word again — he practically shouted it in the Great Hall in the middle of dinner. Did anyone say anything to him? Did any of our teachers dock him points, give him detention, or even warn him? In fact, did any of you notice any sort of negative reaction from anyone at the staff table?"

Hermione frowned at that. It was true, nothing happened to Malfoy for what he said. _Why didn't I notice that?_ she wondered. _Maybe it's because nothing_ _ **ever**_ _happens to him for what he says, no matter how vile his words or threats are. I've become so used to it that I don't even notice it anymore!_

"You're right, Jasmine," Ginny said, frowning as well. "I don't think I've ever seen him punished for his language."

Neville looked troubled. "You don't think they actually condone the things he says, do you?"

"That's something Jasmine and I were talking about earlier," Hermione replied. "I never noticed it before because I kept looking at all of the incidents in isolation, but every year Jasmine has problems and she never receives support from our teachers — not in little things like bullying from Malfoy, and not in big things like accusations of cheating to get into the Triwizard Tournament. If you look at it all together... well, it doesn't make the school look very good, does it?"

"I don't know if any of them approve of it, but failing to even tell him off, never mind punishing him, sends **everyone** the message that his bigotry is OK," Jasmine added. "And it's not just the pureblood bigots who are getting that message — the rest of us are being told that it's fine for us to be abused and harassed. That we should get used to it. That our feelings aren't important. That feeling safe in our own school isn't important."

Neville grew even more troubled at these words, but Ginny became visibly upset. Turning to Jasmine, she said in a rush, "I'm so sorry that I didn't support you right away when your name came out of the cup. I'm sorry I didn't speak up when people called you a cheater. I may not have known you for as long as some, but I certainly knew you well enough to know that you wouldn't cheat and you wouldn't lie about it. I never _truly_ believed that you cheated, but I did have doubts and I feel awful about that..."

"No, Ginny, it's OK. Given your experience with your brothers, it's natural for you to wonder about that. More importantly, you **did** apologize to me — and you did so even before the first task. That's way better than most others in this school have treated me, so I don't hold your doubts against you." Jasmine smiled warmly at the girl, trying to reassure her.

"I know I didn't treat you as badly as some, but I also didn't treat you as well as others." Ginny looked pointedly at the boy sitting next to her. "Neville, here, believed you right from the beginning and even helped you a bit to prepare for the first task." Turning back to the other girls, she said, "I hope you know that I'll do anything I can to help with the second and third tasks." Neville blushed at the praise, but then sat up a little bit straighter, too.

Smiling at this exchange, Jasmine glanced briefly up at the head table, wondering what the teachers thought about Malfoy's words, and wondering how they justified not saying anything. As she did so, her eyes caught those of Professor McGonagall, who gave her a short, quick nod. Jasmine nodded back in response, then quickly returned her attention to the Gryffindors across from her.

"I can't tell you how great it was knowing that Neville supported me. Having his help to prepare was important too. I'm glad that you'll be there for me in the coming tasks, Ginny. It's a shame that the teachers aren't allowed to help, so I need support from friends even more." Looking over at Hermione, she added casually, "Speaking of which, don't forget you promised to help me with Transfiguration after dinner." Hermione's eyes widened, then she smiled at hearing that.

"Is there anything I can do?" Neville asked. "Unfortunately, my Transfiguration grades are barely average."

"No, thanks," Hermione answered quickly. "We already have it planned out, and it shouldn't take too long anyway. We need to make certain that we get it done while we have a chance. Now that we know the Yule Ball is coming — and by the way, can I just say that it's ridiculous that they announced such an event with only two weeks notice! — it's going to get busy around here."

After this, the conversation turned to more casual matters as the four Gryffindors discussed classes and gossipped about the other schools. It wasn't long before Jasmine spied Professor McGonagall finishing her dinner and slowly making her way along the head table. She nudged Hermione, who nodded that she had noticed the same thing, so they both hastened to finish their own meals and said goodbye to their friends.

* * *

Walking along the corridors from the Great Hall to McGonagall's office, the moods of the two young witches were, ironically, the opposite of what they had been before dinner. Hermione was still conflicted over what might be going on with Professor McGonagall, but she was trying to feel more confident that it would all work out. Jasmine, who had been quite confident earlier, was starting to feel increased trepidation over the coming conversation and what consequences it might have.

When they arrived at the office door, Jasmine stopped Hermione from knocking and asked her, "Are you sure we're doing the right thing?" Hermione could see that her friend was getting increasingly nervous and tried to reassure her. "Stick to the plan we discussed earlier and it'll be fine. No matter what her real feelings are, she shouldn't be able to betray you."

Seeing that her words didn't work as well as she had hoped, Hermione took some inspiration from Jasmine's earlier actions. Grabbing the front of her robes with one hand, she pulled the green-eyed witch into a short but intense kiss, leaving her a bit stunned but smiling. "For luck!" Hermione said before she turned and knocked on their professor's door. As she did, a strange thought flashed through her mind: _I wonder what would have happened had I simply done that back in first year before she left me to face Voldemort. Wait, I didn't_ _ **want**_ _to do that at the time, did I? I never thought about any girls in that way, right?_

Jasmine was still smiling a bit goofily when they heard the old Scotswoman bid them enter, but she managed to shake most of it off by the time they sat in the hard, straight-backed chairs in front of the professor's desk. Minerva McGonagall looked a bit surprised to see two witches enter her office, having received a request for an appointment for only one. "I want to say I'm surprised to see you here, Miss Granger, but truth be told, you and Miss Potter have been so attached at the hip for the past three years that I shouldn't be shocked to see you anywhere with her." Raising one eyebrow, she added, "To be honest, I half expected to see you follow her out to face the dragon last month."

"Frankly, I almost did, Professor," Hermione responded. "I was in the champion's tent, in fact, almost up to the point where the four champions chose the dragons they faced. Headmaster Dumbledore had to order me out."

McGonagall's mouth twitched ever so slightly, "I hadn't heard that, but I can't say I'm surprised in the least. Now, which one of you would like to tell me what urgent personal matter has brought the two of you here at this time of evening — and after a rather secretive request for an appointment, too. Don't think I didn't notice how your familiar delivered a message within the castle and after I was alone, Miss Potter." The older professor folded her hands on her neatly-organized desk and waited.

The two witches shared a meaningful look before Hermione turned back and said, "We both have something important to discuss with you — in some ways it's mostly about Jasmine, but it does involve both of us. However, we were unsure whether to bring this to you at all."

"To be specific," Jasmine cut in, "I was unsure whether we should bring this to you or not. In principle we should be able to do so — you're the one we **should** be able to go to. That's why Hermione recommended you in the first place. But I'm honestly not sure whether I can trust you enough, and when I explained my reasoning, Hermione agreed that I had a point. So she's unsure now, too. And so we have a problem. We have something that we need to talk to **someone** about — someone with experience and authority — but it needs to be someone we can trust unconditionally. What should we do?"

Minerva McGonagall sat stunned at what she just heard her two young lionesses tell her. She had anticipated many different possible topics of conversation — this wasn't the first time a girl under her care had needed to talk to her about "urgent personal problems," and it certainly wouldn't be the last. Of all the possible problems she might have had to address, however, she hadn't expected this — she hadn't expected that **she** would be the problem.

With narrowed eyes, she regarded the two witches for a few seconds and noted that neither shrank back from her gaze. "If I'm going to answer that, perhaps you should explain to me first why it is, exactly, that I don't have your trust? I hold three important positions in this school, all of which require me to have at least some trust and respect from the students. I have many years of experience and like to think that I do a fairly good job. But do tell, Miss Potter — in what way am I not living up to your expectations?" she asked frostily.

It was a mistake for her to adopt such a stern, defensive posture in her reaction — understandable, but a mistake — because the witches before her responded in kind. When they laid out the problems which Jasmine had earlier explained to Hermione, they did so in a harsher and more aggressive tone than they might otherwise have used. Between the two of them — with Hermione adding in some details which even Jasmine hadn't thought of — they presented a case that forced even McGonagall to start reconsidering some of her decisions.

Not quite willing to admit fault on all the points they raised, she attempted to defend herself on at least some of it. "I can appreciate not wanting to be treated poorly by some of the other students, Miss Potter, but the staff here at Hogwarts cannot regulate what every student thinks and cannot force students to treat everyone else nicely. That's especially true when it comes to the interactions between Gryffindors and Slytherins. Learning to live with the fact that not everyone will like you is a part of life."

Both girls frowned in annoyance that their professor didn't seem to understand the gravity of the situation. "If this were simply a few students and isolated incidents, I'd agree with you," Jasmine said. "But it's not. It's about everybody in the school acting the same, horrid way. In some cases, you could even say it's organized. During my second year, an awful lot of students treated me badly because they thought I was the Heir of Slytherin — because they thought I was guilty of attacking others in the corridors. None of the teachers tried to correct the false rumors being spread. That's not the same as making people like me."

Professor McGonagall sat back to consider that, but Jasmine continued. "It's similar this year. Most of the students believe that I cheated to get into the Triwizard Tournament, but the teachers know better. Yet no one has tried to stop any of the harassment, and no one has done anything to set the record straight. Nobody lifted a finger about those buttons that were so popular before the first task."

Hermione added her own thoughts, saying, "Professor, there's a huge difference between a few students not liking Jasmine or not treating her very well, and most of the students harassing her because of accusations which the staff know are wrong. Professors can't do much about the first, except maybe in extreme cases — it's something we all have to live with. The second, however, is a different story. When teachers don't correct false accusations, they're basically giving their approval to both the accusations and the resulting harassment."

"If there were false rumors going around that you cheated to get your position," Jasmine said cautiously, unsure of how this analogy would be received, "and students were being disrespectful because of that, I'm pretty sure you'd publicly denounce the accusations and punish people who ignored the correction."

"You shouldn't be expected to work in such an environment, Professor," Hermione added, "so why should Jasmine be expected to learn in such an environment?"

That last statement hit Professor McGonagall like a slap in the face. She had worked hard to get to where she was and was proud of her achievements. _I'd be furious if I were accused of having cheated_ , she realized, _and while such an accusation against a student isn't quite as grave as it would be against someone in my position, it is still quite serious. When the cheating is bad enough, it's something they can be expelled for. The same is true for attacking others in the halls. It is also something that the staff has an obligation to address, at least when it reaches the level it has in Miss Potter's case._

Now, looking back on all of the incidents and problems that her two young Gryffindors had raised, she wasn't nearly so confident in her ability to defend herself. _This is something I am going to have to give a lot more thought to_ , she thought wearily. _It seems likely that there is more truth to their concerns than I was willing to acknowledge._

It was at that point that it struck her how some of her actions or inactions could have gotten one or both of these young witches killed. _Sweet Merlin_ , she thought as the full gravity of those incidents finally hit her. _How could I have been in such denial? Why would I have thought those decisions were..._ _**Albus!**_ _He was the one who kept reassuring me that everything was fine and that no one would be harmed, even when I raised my own concerns and objections. But that doesn't explain why I always went along with him…._

Her face had paled at this realization, and there seemed little left to say. Instead, she stood and walked over to a set of nearby shelves that contained a mixture of books and decorations. With a slight tremor, she poured herself a large measure of scotch from a bottle and serving set located on the middle shelf and brought it back to her desk.

Normally she would never drink in front of students, especially ones so young as these, but their complaints cut too deep. The scope of her failure was too great. _Even if I didn't accept any of the rest of their concerns_ , she thought with resignation, _the danger I've put them in more than justifies their lack of trust in me._

Seeing such a strong reaction from their normally unflappable teacher, Hermione felt compelled to add, "Professor, you should know that any one of these incidents might be dismissed as a fluke if it stood alone. It's when you put them all together that you realize there's cause for concern. I didn't even notice the pattern, much less think about how these incidents might appear to someone else, until Jasmine brought it all to my attention earlier today — and she didn't start making the connection herself until this term."

Minerva took a healthy swig of her scotch and paused for a moment to collect herself before responding. "That's a fair point, Miss Granger; but given my position, I probably should have noticed the pattern long before now. It worries me greatly that I didn't. It worries me that I consistently listened to the counsel of others rather than my own conscience. Granted, I am busy with many duties, and that includes an entire House to supervise; but my first duty is to the students, and if I don't have the time to notice such problems and deal with them, then I've stretched myself too thin."

Jasmine and Hermione had hoped for some sign of contrition that could eventually lead to a resolution and possibly trust, even in the face of Jasmine's doubts. This reaction, however, was much more than they had expected, and so they didn't quite know how to proceed. Fortunately for them, their professor chose to continue — but only after taking another sip of her drink.

"Given the severity of the incidents, you deserve an explanation for what's happened. I'm not sure I can give you a satisfactory one, though. While I have to take full responsibility for my own actions, you should know that I'm not entirely responsible for everything. In many cases, I have been following instructions and advice given by someone else..."

"Dumbledore," growled out Jasmine as Hermione grabbed her hand.

"Indeed," the Deputy Headmistress responded with a frown. "His choices and actions with regards to you are... suspect. It's not something I ever thought about before, but now that I'm looking back at everything the problem seems rather obvious. I don't think it would be unreasonable to say that if these things had happened to any student other than you, action probably would have been taken to help them, and they would not have been left to flounder on their own."

McGonagall pondered her last words and considered that Miss Potter had indeed been left on her own so often, abandoned to her own devices without any system of support or comfort. _What would she be like if she didn't have the witch sitting next to her right now?_ she thought to herself. _It was scarcely an exaggeration to describe them as being attached at the hip — it's so rare to see one but not the other. Even the Weasley twins seem to go their separate ways more often than these two._

"Well, I think that should probably be a discussion for another time. If you haven't already, I suggest thinking more critically about the things Albus Dumbledore has or has not done with regards to you, Miss Potter. Maybe Miss Granger can help. Do the same thing you did with me and look for patterns. We can meet again later to discuss it further, if you'd like. Right now, though, I think we need to focus on your reason for being here: trust. You don't trust me. I must admit that when I first heard that I was shocked, but now I'll concede that you have some grounds for your concerns. I doubt I would feel differently in your place."

After pausing for a moment to give everyone a chance to think about that, she resumed, "So where do we go from here? I do wish to deserve your trust — not only because I'm your professor and Head of House, but because I'm genuinely fond of the two of you. We professors aren't supposed to have favorites, but I can't deny that I have greater regard for you both than I do most other students. What can I do to earn your trust? What can I do to help you with this personal problem, Miss Potter?"

The two witches looked at each other, trying to decide what to do. They unconsciously mirrored each other, biting their bottom lips in thought. Minerva thought it was cute and wondered how long that had been going on. Finally, Jasmine turned to her professor and said, "I have a lot of trouble trusting adults, but Hermione is convinced that trusting you is our best route forward. I'm not so sure, but I've learned that my Hermione is right far more often than not, so I'm willing to try going forward. But the problem we need to talk about is serious enough that even if we did trust you, we wouldn't talk about it lightly. We need strong assurances that it wouldn't go beyond this room. Would you be willing to do something like take a magical oath?"

Minerva had hoped that the evening's shocks had ended, but clearly she was in for a bumpy broom ride. The admission that Miss Potter didn't trust adults wasn't all that surprising, though it was disturbing. What truly surprised her was the request for a magical oath. Such oaths were dangerous and only made in the gravest of situations. Asking for one lightly was considered by some as tantamount to an assault, given the consequences if a typical oath were broken.

Seeing the reaction in her professor's face, Hermione hastened to add, "Please, Professor, we wouldn't think of asking for something like that unless we thought the situation was serious enough. But we'd be willing to go with a different option if you know of something that will provide us with similar assurances that our secrets will be protected."

Minerva's eyes widened a bit. _Miss Granger is normally quite level headed, but even she thinks that an oath might be justified? And what's this about_ _ **our**_ _secrets — I thought that the issue only involved Miss Potter. What could possibly be so serious that it concerns both of them and might need to be protected by a magical oath?_

The Scotswoman lifted her glass to take another drink, but found to her dismay that she had already finished it. It wouldn't do for her to get another, so she closed her eyes to think about the question. After a minute of silent thought, she looked back again at the two witches. "Only a magical contract would work as an alternative to a magical oath, but contracts are complicated and time consuming to create." The girls looked a little distressed at this, so she quickly continued, "However, I think I can formulate a magical oath that isn't made on my life or magic."

Once again, the two girls looked at each other, silently communicating. Hermione raised one eyebrow, _Do you think that will be acceptable?_ Jasmine frowned slightly, _I think so, but we'll have to see what the actual wording is._ Hermione smiled, _See, I told you it was a good idea to come here!_ Jasmine rolled her eyes, _Yeah, yeah, you're always right. I did agree to this, didn't I?_

Simultaneously, they turned back to their professor, seeing her eyes wide in amazement. _No words, but clearly a conversation,_ she realized. _That reminds me of how James and Lily would interact, but they didn't start doing that until after they left school and had gotten engaged. And of course they were... no, it's not important right now. We need to move forward with an oath._

"How about this?" Minerva began to write, _I vow to not reveal the secrets told to me this evening by Hermione Jean Granger and Jasmine Dorea Potter unless given permission by one of them to do so or until they both tell me that my oath is lifted._

She handed the piece of parchment over, saying, "I won't recite it aloud until you confirm that it is adequate. Breaking the oath won't kill me or take away my magic, but if I inadvertently start to violate it my magic will warn me, and if I continue it will hurt. The consequences shouldn't be permanent, but they will probably be unpleasant. The magic involved here is complicated, but since magic is all about intent, the consequences to me if I break the oath will be more intense the more sincere I am. After I am done, if you hold out your wands and touch mine while reciting, 'I accept your oath,' your own intent will be added to it, so you won't have to rely solely on trusting my intent."

After reading over the suggested oath, Hermione looked at Jasmine to gauge her reaction. She wouldn't go forward with this without Jasmine's complete agreement. The witch in question gave a sigh of relief and nodded her head. "Yes, that sounds like it would be perfect. I wasn't happy about putting you in any danger, but we didn't know of any other way of guaranteeing our privacy."

Minerva smiled. While she was disappointed to not have the trust of two of her favorite students, she was heartened to learn that even Jasmine, the most distrusting, didn't wish her ill at all. This gave her a lot of hope for the future — though that future clearly depended on what she could do to help them with whatever problem had brought them to her tonight.

Rising so they could stand facing each other at the side of the professor's desk, the three witches all recited their parts of the magical oath and witnessed a bright glow swell out between them, signalling that the oath had indeed been accepted by their magic. "Well," said Minerva after they had sat back down again, "that was a rather stronger than usual magical reaction — certainly stronger than I expected. It looks like I'll be in for a difficult time if I break my word to you. So what is it that was so important that we had to go through all this before coming to the point?"

Both witches reached out for each other's hand and, after a moment's pause, Jasmine looked directly into Minerva's eyes to ask the much-anticipated question: "Professor, how does magical society treat gays and lesbians?"

* * *

 **A/N:** Some may feel that Jasmine's anger is a bit out of character. You'd be right, she is acting unusual. But something unusual started happening to her recently. Coincidence?

 **A/N 2:** No, that's not telepathy from a soul bond. I'm sure you've read fics where characters are described as being able to have an entire conversation with just a couple of looks? Yeah, that's what's happening, except they are especially good at it. And they don't realize that it's odd.


	3. Revelations and Repression

**A/N:** More than one reader expressed concern about "Dumbledore bashing." I won't deny being entertained by stories where writers find all the ways he screwed up, but like with soul bonds, I'm using the cliche in a way that I think is a bit different — more three dimensional and less simplistic. He'll be an antagonist and an opponent, especially early on, but not evil. You may even find yourself sympathizing with him occasionally. Several popular cliches will be used in a similar way, in fact, so have a little patience, you may be surprised.

 **Recommendation:** Story recommendation for this chapter is "More Important than Any Broomstick" by witowsmp. In third year, Harry realizes that Hermione is more important to him than his new broomstick and so chooses to stick with her rather than be mad at her.

* * *

 **Chapter 03 - Revelations and Repression**

 **Thursday, December 10, 1994, Evening.**

Minerva McGonagall was desperately wishing that she hadn't already committed herself to not having a second drink in front of her students — or at least that she hadn't caved in so early and had the first already. Of all the things that these two witches might have come to her about, including many of the more obscure and unusual issues, she had never considered Hermione Granger and Jasmine Potter asking her about how homosexuality was viewed in the magical world.

That might be because it was an issue she herself had avoided thinking about for such a long, long time. It brought up a lot of memories, some grand but many painful.

Firmly shutting the door on the ghosts of her own past, Minerva tried to focus on the teen witches in front of her. Suddenly, a number of things started to make sense, including things she hadn't consciously noted before. Actions like holding hands and having a silent conversation she had earlier chalked up to them simply being particularly close friends, but now those actions acquired rather different connotations. Then there was the comment Jasmine made about "her Hermione" which Minerva had ignored.

Eyes flicking back and forth between the girls' faces, the aging professor started slowly, "So…some things are becoming clear to me, I think. How long has this been going on, then?"

"Well, only today, frankly..." Hermione began.

"Actually," Jasmine interjected, "I've known this about myself for a while, though I've tried to ignore it or repress it as much as possible. Ditto with my feelings specifically for Hermione. However, this morning I learned that not only was I required to attend a Yule Ball I have no interest in, but I'd have to bring a date — presumably a boy who I _also_ have no interest in." Minerva winced inwardly, recognizing the rebuke as rather justified now that she had more information.

"Basically, I had a panic attack — something that I hadn't gone through since before coming to Hogwarts, despite all the dangerous and scary things that have happened to me."

"I've been thinking about that, Jas." Hermione said, "I was worried about you because I hadn't seen a reaction like that from you before. It's because you didn't think I could accept it, wasn't it? Previously, whether you were facing dragons, dementors, basilisks, or whatever, you always felt that I was on your side, if not actually **at** your side. This time, though, you were convinced that you'd truly be alone. You feared that I might go so far as to abandon you, if I learned too much." Hermione leaned a bit closer, "I'm right, aren't I?"

Jasmine was staring down at her lap, unwilling to let anyone see the tears starting to form in her eyes. Sniffing, she said quietly, "Yeah." At that point, some of the crippling fear she'd experienced that morning came crashing back into her.

That was all Hermione needed to hear. Kneeling next to the chair, she pulled Jasmine into a hug, allowing the other girl to bury her head in Hermione's hair. Slowly rubbing her hand up and down the other girl's arm, Hermione whispered, "It's OK. I'm here and I'm not going anywhere. No matter what, I won't leave you."

If she'd had any doubts about what the girls were truly feeling, Minerva would have lost them all right there. This wasn't the sort of intimacy shared by girls who were experimenting or confused — and it was more than she'd expect to see between students who were simply friends. She'd long known that these two had an unusually close bond, but it had apparently morphed into something more serious without anyone realizing. _I wouldn't have thought they could get any closer, but clearly I was wrong_ , she mused. _I wonder how this will affect their day-to-day interactions?_

Minerva gave Jasmine a minute to get the emotions out of her system, but eventually she had to clear her throat to get their attention. "I'm sorry, but we do need to move forward if we're to accomplish anything before curfew. Clearly your questions weren't hypothetical. Just so there aren't any misunderstandings, you're both attracted to witches rather than to wizards, have recently entered into a romantic, intimate relationship, and are concerned about the consequences for how you will be treated in magical society?"

"Ummm…" Jasmine began.

"Almost," Hermione said. "Jasmine is attracted to witches, and me in particular. I... well, romance isn't something I've given much thought to. I assumed I was straight, at least to the extent that the question occurred to me; but after my conversation with Jasmine, I guess I'm reconsidering. I need to do a bit of soul-searching to figure out what I really feel."

Looking over at The Girl Who Lived, she continued, "I don't know what I think about witches or women in general, but I think I'm attracted to Jasmine. Attracted enough, at least, to give dating a try. I wouldn't say we're exactly 'intimate' since we've only kissed a couple of times," she added, flushing slightly, "but we are close. So we were thinking of going as a couple to the Yule Ball. That, though, depends on people's reactions. We've never seen any openly gay wizards or witches, and given the general amount of bigotry in magical society, we're concerned."

Minerva raised her eyebrows. _So close and in sync with each other,_ she thought to herself, _yet only just now starting a relationship that is still tentative, at least on Miss Granger's part. I can't imagine what they'll be like if and when their relationship solidifies._

Deciding to get this out of the way, Minerva said, "I'm afraid I don't have good news, although I doubt that comes as a surprise to either of you. Relationships between magicals of the same sex are tolerated, but only barely and only if those relationships are kept absolutely secret. Essentially, if no one is confronted with the reality of such a relationship, they are willing to continue with the polite fiction that such relationships don't exist. In truth, they know the relationships exist and in fact often know that certain friends have such relationships, but they pretend otherwise."

Hermione opened her mouth, then closed it again. "Yes, Miss Granger?" Minerva prompted.

"I... I think I saw something about that on the news," Hermione answered. "Not among magicals, but a muggle military somewhere. In the last year or so they adopted a new policy of... I think it was not asking if members were gay, and no one had to tell their superiors if they were gay. It replaced a policy of actively hunting gays down and kicking them out."

Minerva nodded her head in understanding. "I'm not surprised that something similar can be found elsewhere. It's an easy way to pretend to be tolerant while forcing people into hiding and then removing them when they can no longer hide."

She continued with her explanation, saying, "Unfortunately, when pretending is no longer possible, the consequences for those involved can be dire. At least there are no longer any laws that would see such people imprisoned, but the social ramifications are bad enough. They'll lose most if not all of their friends; those who refuse to participate in the shunning risk being shunned themselves. No jobs will be available, and those who do try to provide jobs will find their own positions at risk. Stores and shops which employ such people lose most if not all of their business, much like if they openly employ werewolves."

Minerva stopped for a few moments to let all of this sink in. The news she had given them could have been worse, but not by much. Being open about their relationship simply wouldn't be an option, she knew that all too well. "As you can see, going to the Yule Ball as a couple would not be wise. You, Miss Granger, would naturally suffer the most." The brunette witch started with surprise at hearing this.

"Yes, you should already be aware that you're at somewhat of a disadvantage because you're a muggleborn. The fact that you regularly outperform purebloods who believe that they have a birthright to being superior makes it worse. Your peers here at school will be your peers in any future working environment, and neither of you have many friends or admirers among them by this point. That's important because the British magical community is far too small to avoid people who know you or at least know of you."

"I expect you will have difficulties when you leave Hogwarts, though I hope that your high achievements will overcome some of your problems if you find the right field. Adding in a relationship like this, however," she gestured to the two of them, "will make you virtually unemployable and a near pariah in magical society."

Minerva looked grim as she continued, "I'm sorry to say, but you'd almost certainly have to return to the muggle world just to find work to survive. There, however, you would be burdened by a woefully inadequate education, because students who attend Hogwarts have little chance to keep up with muggle schooling as well. So while you would be able to get work, it would not be work that is well-suited to your innate abilities or aspirations."

Jasmine frowned. "Would my experience really be that different?" she asked. "I may not start with all the same issues, but wouldn't the end result be pretty much the same? Surely being the Girl Who Lived wouldn't change something that serious?"

Somewhat taken aback by the question, Minerva responded, "No, not at all. To be sure, you'd also end up virtually unemployable, but you'd at least have your family's money, investments, and property to fall back upon. You wouldn't be accepted very well by society, however the Potter name should make up for a little of that, and you'd have enough resources that you wouldn't have to leave magical society simply to survive. Whether you'd want to stay or leave would be another question, of course."

At this, Jasmine's frown deepened and she was quickly joined by Hermione, who asked, "Money? Investments? What do you mean by that? Jasmine hasn't been told anything about any of that, have you?"

"No," the auburn-haired teen said tightly, clearly having trouble maintaining a hold on her anger. "Dumbledore again, right? What did I ever do to him to make him hate me so much…?"

"Oh, dear," sighed Minerva softly. "This is clearly something we're going to have to talk about at some point. I honestly never got the impression that he hated you; quite the contrary, in fact. However, I will obviously have to reconsider a lot of his decisions with regards to you. Suffice it to say, yes, you **should** have reasonable economic resources, even if it isn't all available until you are older. Yes, you **should** have heard something about it by now, even if not all the details. And, yes, it **should** go a long way to cushion any social blow created by a public revelation of your orientation. But we'll have to wait until later to talk further about all that. Right now, our immediate concern is the Yule Ball, yes?"

Both teen witches looked like they wanted to pursue this new issue, but they grudgingly conceded that it wasn't the priority right now.

"Very well, I think you'll agree that going to the Yule Ball as a couple would not be a good idea. Whether you're willing to accept the consequences or not, you're not yet at a point where you fully understand what those consequences will be or how you'll deal with them. You aren't even at a point yet where you fully understand your own relationship. Discretion and secrecy would be the best path right now."

It was clear to Minerva that neither of the younger witches were happy about this, but she had made her point about the ramifications of their relationship becoming public, and they acquiesced. "Have you given any thought to alternative plans? I'm afraid that I can't let you out of going to the Yule Ball. Well, short of a serious illness or injury that strikes you at the last minute — and I suspect that that would come under close scrutiny even if you were to do such a good acting job in advance that the whole school is convinced that you can't wait to attend."

Hermione decided to answer, knowing that Jasmine would need a little time to get her emotions under control, "Yes, we discussed a couple of alternatives. Jasmine going with a boy whom we trust is one option, particularly if we can trust him enough with our secret — after an oath, of course. We'd probably use the oath you created, since it's safer."

Minerva looked thoughtful at that. "I think that's probably your best option. I know how hard it will be to reveal your secret to someone else, but the benefits of a fellow student knowing will probably outweigh the risks. You'll find it hard to keep your new relationship hidden, but the help of a fellow student who is with you day after day will prove more useful than the help of a staff member like me. Can I ask whom you have in mind? Mr. Ronald Weasley, perhaps?"

"No!" Jasmine said, almost shouting and surprising the other two with the vehemence of her response. Looking a bit sheepish over having let the emotions of the previous topic carry over, she continued, "Look, I'll admit that he and I are better now than we were a month ago, but his reaction to my name coming out of the Triwizard Cup still hurts, and I haven't completely forgiven him. So I don't completely trust him, either — he's working on getting closer to me again, but it will be a while yet."

"And quite frankly," she said with a sigh, "even if things were as good as they were a year ago, I don't think I'd be willing to go on a fake date with him. Have you seen him eat?"

Hermione shivered and Minerva closed her eyes in sympathy. Both were well aware of the eating habits that the youngest Weasley boy demonstrated sometimes, and neither relished the prospect of trying to endure a nice dinner in his vicinity.

"More important, though," she continued, "is the fact that he has a tendency to blurt out whatever he's thinking, however inappropriate or hurtful. You should hear some of the things he's said to Hermione when they're arguing. I don't know that I'd ever trust him to be able to keep this to himself, even with an oath."

"The one person I can honestly think of trusting that much, with or without an oath, is Neville Longbottom. We aren't as close as I'd like to be for this, but we have gotten a lot closer recently because of his support and help in this tournament, and I think we'll keep getting closer over time." Hermione agreed with this wholeheartedly.

Minerva thought for a moment, then nodded, "Yes, I think he is a good choice. It's unfortunate that you probably haven't been made aware of this, but the Potter and Longbottom families have a longstanding tradition of working together. Mr. Longbottom lacks confidence, from what I've observed, but I think he has it in him to be a good friend — and hopefully a strong wizard." With a long-suffering glance heavenward, she added, "Eventually."

Jasmine was torn between happiness over the the revelation about the Longbottoms and annoyance that she hadn't known already.

Minerva continued, "I think we've accomplished all we can for tonight. It's getting late, and if your options for possible dates truly are so limited, you would be wise to talk to Mr. Longbottom before he decides to attend the ball with someone else. I'd recommend talking to him tonight, if at all possible — you should have enough time before curfew, if you hurry."

Looking at the nearby clock, both witches silently agreed to do exactly that. As they started for the door, however, their professor held up her hand to stop them. "Before you leave, I'd like to make it clear that I, personally, do not share the prejudices so prevalent in the rest of our society. I intend to advise and help you not merely because I wish to earn the trust I've lost, but also because I think it's the right thing to do. To be honest, I've long thought that you two have made a remarkable team as friends, particularly with the way you support each other, and I think that you will be more remarkable still if your relationship grows beyond mere friendship. If there is anything I can do to help or protect you, I will."

Jasmine and Hermione were shocked at this unalloyed statement of support, coming as it did from their normally undemonstrative professor. Stammering out their thanks, they rushed out of the office to go find Neville.

Once they were gone, Minerva sat lost in thought for a time, remembering missed opportunities and the shortsightedness of youth. With a shake of her head, she brushed something that might have been a tear from her eye and got up to return to her own quarters.

* * *

Racing along the empty stone corridors to get back to the Gryffindor common room, Jasmine Potter reflected on what she and Hermione had just been told by their head of house. She had suffered quite a few shocks from all the revelations, but at the moment it was Professor McGonagall's parting words that stuck out the most: they were and would be a remarkable couple because of how well they supported each other.

Jasmine wanted to think that this was true, she really did; but as the two of them ran she realized, much to her dismay, that it wasn't true at all. _Sure_ , she thought to herself, _Hermione has supported me in lots of ways, but have I done the same? When was the last time I went out of my way to support or help her like she did for me just this morning?_

Skidding to a halt, she almost caused Hermione to fall. Instead of answering the questioning look she received, Jasmine simply pulled her into the closest empty classroom. Hermione had no idea what was going on, but didn't hesitate to cast her silencing and privacy charms on the door. When she turned back to her friend, she saw that she was almost in tears. "Jasmine! What's wrong?" she asked desperately.

"Hermione, I am so sorry. I've only now started to realize how bad of a friend I've been compared to you. McGonagall was wrong in saying that we support each other. You certainly support me — what you did for me this morning proves that — but I don't do nearly enough to support you. Then there are times when I hurt you, like the broomstick incident last year! I... I... I've been horrible!"

"Oh, Jasmine!" Hermione couldn't take it anymore and simply wrapped her friend in an embrace. She smiled a little, pleased that Jasmine cared enough to finally recognize and apologize for some of her flaws, but she needed to help the green-eyed girl understand that matters hadn't been nearly as bad as she evidently feared. And anyway, with Jasmine's background, who could blame her if emotional support didn't come effortlessly to her? In fact, Hermione worried a little that this might be one of those things that had to be learned by some critical age or it would never be learned properly at all. Now, though, was not the time for that sort of conversation.

"Jas," she said as she pulled back, "thank you for caring enough to say all that, but it's not nearly as bad as you make it out. I've been hurt a couple of times, but it's not like you're abusive or anything. You're not like Ron, at least, who often says things that hurt me. You do have some room for improvement, and we'll talk about that later; but for now, don't beat yourself up over it."

Despite her words, Jasmine didn't look particularly reassured. Biting her bottom lip in thought for a moment, Hermione continued, "In fact, I suppose I should make a confession about that broomstick incident. I had hoped to never say anything, but if you're going to keep torturing yourself over it, I suppose I'm going to have to."

Jasmine felt confused, not sure what Hermione could possibly have to confess.

"You and Ron got mad at me and stopped talking to me after I told Professor McGonagall about the broomstick. You feel bad about that, and, while it would have been nice if you had handled it better, I honestly didn't expect you to. You behaved exactly like I figured you would. Ron, too."

Letting go of her friend, Hermione sat at a nearby desk before resuming her explanation. "Once I saw that broomstick and realized what sort of danger it might pose, I had two options. The first option — the one that a good friend would have taken — was to talk to you first, and then only go to McGonagall if you refused to see reason. A good friend, a true friend, would have trusted you to see reason and do the right thing. Friends trust each other and have faith in each other. But I didn't do that. Do you want to know why?"

Jasmine was even more confused now. It sounded like Hermione was confessing to being a bad friend, but she couldn't imagine anyone being a **better** friend than her.

"I didn't do it because I was scared," Hermione continued. "I knew that if I went to McGonagall, you'd be mad, but I was certain that if I went to McGonagall **after** talking to you first, you'd be even madder — you'd see it as an even greater betrayal. I was afraid that if it came to that, you'd be far less likely to forgive me and resume our friendship. So I chose the option that represented being a worse friend, but gave me the best chance of not permanently losing my only friends. You know that I didn't have any real friends before Hogwarts, and the prospect of losing the only ones I'd ever known was truly frightening."

Taking a deep, shuddering breath as she tried hard not to cry, she finished off by saying, "I'll have you know, though, that I don't regret what I did and I wouldn't change it. As scared as I was of possibly losing my only friends, I was far more scared of you being killed by a cursed broomstick. I'd rather you hate me and be alive than die while still my friend."

Jasmine's emotions were all mixed up by now. As bad as she had thought the broomstick incident was, in some ways it was worse. Not only had she shunned her first and best friend over a disagreement about a piece of wood, but she had actually forced that friend to calculate what was more important: a friend lost or a friend dying. For an insecure girl who didn't have real friends before Hogwarts, giving up her only two friends would have been a huge sacrifice.

For some reason, though, Hermione was willing to forgive her. Reaching out and pulling her friend up into an embrace, she spoke softly into her bushy hair. "I'm so sorry I forced you into even considering such a choice. You're wrong, though, you know — the second option was the one that represented real friendship. Because when you picked it, you were consciously putting my life ahead of your own interests. You chose me over everything else, just like I promise I'll always choose you."

Both girls started to sob a bit after that, until Jasmine shook her head and tried to pull herself together. She was never this emotional and had no idea where this behavior was coming from, but she chose to focus on Hermione instead of that. Hermione said that she hadn't behaved as badly as she thought, she told herself firmly, and if Hermione said she was fine, then that would be good enough for her. "OK, if you're sure, then we'll talk about this later. We'd better get going and find Neville, though. I'm sorry for crying all over you."

With a deep breath of her own, Hermione smiled. "No worries, Jas. We'll be fine." Taking her hand, Hermione undid the spells on the door, and the two were off running again in search of a certain Gryffindor herbologist.


	4. I Get By with a Little Help

**A/N:** It's been pointed out that the conversation with McGonagall is similar to the one early in muggledad's story "The End and the Beginning." Since that's one of my favorite stories and he's one of my favorite writers, it's entirely possible that I was influenced unconsciously. It was not a deliberate imitation, but I'll use this opportunity to make that the recommended story for this chapter.

* * *

 **Chapter 04 - I Get By with a Little Help From My Friends**

 **Thursday, December 10, 1994, Late Evening.**

Racing up to the portrait guarding the Gryffindor common room, Hermione gave the password, and the two witches stepped quietly into the room, looking everywhere in the hope that Neville Longbottom was there and that they wouldn't have to go hunting for him elsewhere. Luck was with them because they saw him at a corner table working on something, but then they noticed a problem: he was with Ginny Weasley.

"What do we do, Hermione?" Jasmine asked. "We can't say that we need to do something for the tournament because Ginny wants to help, but I don't want to tell her the truth." Hermione thought hard for a minute, then had an idea. "I'll distract Ginny with some excuse, getting her away from Neville; after we're gone, you take him to the room we work in."

"That's a good idea, Hermione, but it'll be a great idea with one small change."

"What?" she asked, a little annoyed.

"We switch places: I'll distract Ginny while you fetch Neville."

"How is that an improvement?" Hermione demanded.

"Like you said this morning, you can't lie well, so you won't do as well creating a diversion. Here, take the Marauder's Map so you can be certain that the corridor is clear when you get Neville to our room. Wish me luck..."

"Wait," Hermione said, reaching out to put her hand on Jasmine's arm, "How are you going to distract Ginny?"

"I dunno," Jasmine shrugged.

"You don't know?" Hermione practically hissed. "How can you march over there without knowing what you're going to do?" She didn't believe for a second that this was any kind of improvement on her idea — what if Ginny refused to be distracted? What if someone else came and sat down? What if Neville got suspicious? What was Plan B?!

"It's simple, Hermione. I always think best on my feet. Well, except when I'm on a broom." Jasmine then gave Hermione her lopsided grin. "Trust me."

Usually that grin merely caused Hermione to roll her eyes in exasperation because it meant that Jasmine was about to do something dangerous or stupid — especially when coupled with "Trust me." Now, for some strange reason, it made her weak in the knees, and she almost forgot what she was supposed to do. It wasn't until she noticed Ginny walking away with Jasmine that Hermione got her bearings again.

Taking the long way around the common room so Ginny wouldn't notice her, she rushed over to Neville and spoke in fast, low tones. "Neville, come quick! Jasmine and I have something really, really important to talk to you about but we can't do it here — and we want to get it done tonight before curfew. Please? You're the only one we trust with this."

Neville was confused at first and reluctant to wander off — he still had a bunch of work to get done before he could go to bed. After Hermione's declaration of trust, though, he didn't hesitate to start packing up his parchment. He was far more accustomed to being looked down upon as a near-squib by most people, and even the recent weeks of occasionally joining Hermione to help Jasmine prepare for the first task of the Triwizard Tournament hadn't gone far to change that. But faith like this couldn't be ignored. "Sure, I'll come," he said as he packed, "but what about Jasmine — she just walked off with Ginny."

"Don't worry about that, Jasmine is distracting Ginny so we can talk to you alone. You'll understand later, I promise." Now Neville was even more confused, but he didn't stop packing and quietly followed Hermione out of the common room.

When Ginny returned a few minutes later, she was surprised to find that Neville and all his things were gone. She looked around the common room but couldn't see any trace of him. She had been hoping that he might ask her to the Yule Ball, but that wouldn't happen if they didn't spend enough time together so that he could start seeing her as possible dating material. With a disappointed sigh, she sat down again to get back to work on her Astronomy essay.

* * *

After checking the map and seeing that the halls around them were empty, Hermione walked quickly down the seventh floor corridor and into the abandoned classroom the three of them had used to train for the tournament. As Hermione tried to close the door, though, it seemed to smack into something invisible. "Wha—?!"

Suddenly, Jasmine's disembodied head was floating in the doorway. "Ow! Careful there..."

"Sorry, Jas, I forgot that you aren't visible on the map when you're wearing that cloak."

Once the three Gryffindors were seated, Neville turned to Jasmine to say, "So what's going on?"

While Hermione pulled out a piece of parchment and started writing, Jasmine explained the situation. "There's something we need your help with, but it's a huge secret. Aside from the two of us, only one other person in the world knows, and she's taken a magical oath to protect the secret. I'm sorry, but we're going to need an oath from you, too. We wouldn't ask if it weren't incredibly important."

Neville swallowed hard. "An... an oath? I ne-need to swear on my magic or my life?"

Hermione handed him the parchment she was writing on. "No, Neville, this is a simpler oath that amounts to making a strong magical promise. Breaking the promise will cause discomfort or maybe pain, depending on how sincere you are when you make your promise, but you won't die or lose your magic. Our secret is important, but we aren't that cruel."

Neville read the oath on the parchment and calmed down considerably. He hadn't realized that you could make a magical oath like this and wondered where the girls had learned about it. "You're sure that an oath like this is magically valid? I've never seen one like it."

"Yes, Neville," Jasmine responded. "We've seen it done and have an absolutely reliable source for how safe it is. You'll need to wait a moment after taking the oath, however, so we can magically accept it. That will add our intentions to the oath and reinforce your own intention to be sincere in your promise."

Standing up, Neville squared his shoulders and pulled out his wand — even with the oath, he wasn't used to people trusting him this much and he wasn't going to let them down. Jasmine reflected on how much Neville had changed since their first year. _Where's the timid little firstie who was always stuttering?_ she wondered, but then reconsidered. That same little firstie also challenged his only three friends to keep them from leaving the common room after curfew — even going so far as threatening to fight them. _Maybe it's not so much that Neville has changed, but that he's starting to see and use what was always inside him. With a little support, he could become a formidable wizard indeed..._

In a few minutes, the oath was complete and Neville was back in his chair, ready to learn what this important secret was. At least, he **thought** he was ready.

"There's no way to ease you into this, Neville, so I'm going to be blunt," Jasmine began. "I need to warn you up front, though, that you may not like us much when I'm done. If you don't want to be associated with us anymore, we'll understand, but we'll expect you to keep our secrets anyway. OK?"

Neville was curious, to say the least. He couldn't imagine Hermione and Jasmine doing anything that would cause him to want to turn his back on them. He wanted to tell them that, but before he could find his voice, Jasmine was already talking again, explaining the momentous events of the day: the panic attack, the kiss, the meeting with McGonagall — all of it. She ended with McGonagall's revelations about how badly magical society treats couples like them.

Neville was gobsmacked. He just sat there and gaped at them, looking a bit like a fish, if truth be told. Of all the things he might have imagined them telling him, this wouldn't have been anywhere on the list. Fortunately the two witches were patient with him, knowing that they had just laid on him a lot of heavy news that he'd need to think about.

After a long moment, and still unsure about what to say, Neville decided to start with something easy. "So, you're girlfriend and... uh, girlfriend?"

"Yes," said Jasmine. "No," said Hermione in unison.

They looked at each other for a second, then back to Neville.

"No...?" said Jasmine. "Yes...?" said Hermione, again simultaneously.

They turned back to each other. "What?" they both chorused.

That broke the tension in the room, and Neville started laughing. He had become used to the two of them acting in a manner that seemed almost choreographed — he'd never before seen two people so in sync with one another. Now, they were in sync even when at cross-purposes.

Hermione huffed, not sure herself which of the two she was most annoyed at. "Honestly, Jasmine, you may have confessed your feelings for me, and we may have kissed, but you haven't actually _asked_ me to be your girlfriend — and since you started all of this, it should be up to you to do the asking. I think it's rather presumptuous of you to simply assume that we're 'together' somehow."

Thoroughly chastened, Jasmine's eyes started darting back and forth as she tried to figure out how to proceed. Hermione simply crossed her arms and sat back in a prim manner, obviously waiting for something. Unfortunately, Jasmine had absolutely no experience with such matters. Since the Dursleys had denied her any opportunity to watch TV or movies while growing up, she never developed any sort of mental model of what dating should be like, much less how to ask someone to be her girlfriend.

Finally, she latched on to a half-remembered reference that seemed vaguely appropriate. She wasn't sure if she had heard Petunia mention it while gossipping on the phone or if perhaps she heard it on the telly while listening through the tiny grate on the door of her cupboard. Not having any better ideas, she got down on one knee in front of the brightest witch of the age, and said, "Hermione, my love, would you do me the very great honor of marrying me?"

Hermione's eyes bugged out as she slapped her hand over her mouth, not trusting what she might inadvertently say to that question. Neville thought he might hurt himself trying not to burst out laughing. He was pretty sure that this might turn into a sweet moment at some point, and didn't want to ruin it for them.

Jasmine suddenly recognized her error and quickly amended, "No! No, I mean, would you be my **girlfriend**?" Hermione finally snorted in amusement and answered, "Yes — to the second question, at least. You'll need to wait a while before asking me the first again."

Neville finally got himself under control, though for the life of him he couldn't wipe the grin off his face. "OK, so I guess you two finally have that sorted. You're officially girlfriend and girlfriend now. What's next?"

Noticing the smile on his face, Hermione asked, "You're not bothered by this, Neville? We were told that this is looked down upon in magical society, at least when revealed openly rather than kept secret. People are shunned, they lose friends and family, they can't get jobs. Granted, we are trying to keep it secret, at least for now, but I'd have expected you to be a bit bothered by it."

Neville became more serious when he answered, "Well, it does seem more than a bit odd to me, and I don't know exactly how comfortable I'll be with it. You're right that such couples aren't treated well, especially among purebloods, and probably in large part because you can't produce an heir without a man. But don't forget that I've been watching you two together for over three years now, even if we haven't been close until this year. You may not have been an actual couple before today, but you have definitely been a team, and you've had a connection unlike any I've ever seen with anyone else, including dating couples. So the idea of you two adding dating to your activities... well, you've certainly done odder things while here at Hogwarts. I guess dating seems like one of your more normal and natural adventures."

Jasmine merely stared out at nothing upon hearing that. "Huh," she said, "he's got a point. What's more unnatural: two witches dating, or a dark lord growing out of the back of someone's head? What's more bizarre: two witches kissing, or a student fighting a millennium-old basilisk, alone, underneath a school?"

"I'll confess to being uneasy with all of them," Neville said, "but if given a choice, I'd rather stumble across witches kissing in the school corridors than stumble across a basilisk. Or a possessed professor. If nothing else, I think I can at least get used to the first. I'll need a bit of time, though."

For her part, Hermione almost seemed disappointed that revealing the secret went so well. _She probably had a long list of arguments and counter-arguments ready to go, and now she's annoyed that they'll go to waste_ , Jasmine thought with a private smile.

"So, has Professor McGonagall offered to help you?" Neville asked.

"Yes," Jasmine answered. "I was reluctant to go to her because of how she's treated me in the past, but she created the oath and willingly took it. She also seemed to start seeing how her actions in the past have been wrong."

"I was surprised," Hermione added. "My faith in her dropped when Jasmine and I discussed everything, but I'm feeling more optimistic now."

Neville nodded and said, "I've not been too happy with her either, but it sounds like maybe she'll be changing. I'd like that a lot. So what now?"

"Well," Hermione continued, "the 'what now' is the Yule Ball, which we need to deal with. Like we said, Jasmine is required to have a date so she can open the ball with a dance. Obviously there aren't any boys she wants to go on a date with, and she can't have me as her date. So we need someone to go with her: someone she's comfortable with, someone she trusts, someone who is willing to go as a friend rather than as a boyfriend, and perhaps someone who is aware of our secret. Do you know anyone like that, Neville?"

He started to think hard and ran through a list of possible candidates before the truth hit him, and he noticed both witches' lips were twitching. "Oh? Oh! You'd like **me** to...?"

"Yes, Neville." Jasmine responded. "I know it's an imposition, because it means you wouldn't be able to have a real date with a girl you fancy and who fancies you back. Since I can't go with exactly such a girl myself, I understand how disappointing that is. But there isn't another boy in Hogwarts that I'd rather go with. There's no other boy here that I trust more than you."

"And there's certainly no other boy in Hogwarts that I'd trust more with my new girlfriend," Hermione added with a grin.

Jasmine grinned back at her before asking, "So, would you go to the Yule Ball with me?"

As before, Neville didn't hesitate. Rising from his chair, he straightened up to his full height and said, "I think that's my line, actually." He then bowed at the waist before Jasmine and stated, "My dear Miss Potter, would you do me the honor of accompanying me to the Yule Ball this year?"

Smiling, Jasmine stood herself and curtsied before responding, "Dear Mr. Longbottom, I'm flattered that you asked, and I'd be honored to accompany you to the ball."

Everyone laughed and sat back down, but they turned serious again when Hermione continued. "Thank you, Neville, this means a lot to both of us. And thank you for treating this like a real date. Of course, people should know that you two are only going as friends, but we don't want anyone to suspect that there are any other motives at work. So the more seriously the date is treated, the better."

"You can count on me," Neville said. "My gran made certain that I was taught all the proper customs and practices for this kind of event, so I know what to do. All the traditionalists will look at the two of us, Jasmine, and see exactly what they expect to see. They shouldn't have any cause to give your relationship with Hermione a second thought."

Jasmine's eyes widened. "Hey, Neville, maybe Hermione and I should learn some of those customs and practices, too. Oh! And dancing! We **so** need to learn how to dance! As a champion I have to help open the ball, remember, so everyone will be focused on you and me dancing. We need to do at least a halfway decent job in order to not become the laughingstock of the tournament."

That sobered everyone up quickly as they pondered how to proceed. "I've learned how to dance formal dances, but it's been a while since I've had to do any of it," Neville admitted.

"I've had a few dance lessons," Hermione added, "but I didn't continue them for long, and it's been a few years." Jasmine, of course, didn't know the first thing about dancing and remained silent.

"Let's do it this way," Hermione suggested, taking charge in her customary manner. "Neville, you and I will practice dancing together until we can get reasonably comfortable with it. We both know a bit, so working together we should be able to make progress in a relatively short period of time. We won't be able to teach Jasmine very well unless we know what we're doing, so we won't start working with her until you and I are both better. Fortunately the man leads, so the female partner has a bit less to do." Everyone agreed to that as well as lessons from Neville on social traditions and etiquette in magical society, in particular those relating to balls and formal events.

Nothing more could be done that night, however, because they were already running late and needed to get back to their common room before curfew. None of them slept well that night, each dealing in different ways with a myriad of new ideas and difficult problems that they'd be facing — and there were only fifteen days until the Yule Ball!

* * *

 **Friday, December 11, 1994, Morning.**

Getting through History of Magic was tough on the best of days, which was why most people used the class as nap time; but trying to get through it first thing in the morning after having had little sleep the night before was absolute murder. And murder was exactly what Jasmine Potter had on her mind when she looked to her left at Hermione Granger.

Sure, she fancied the bushy-haired witch, but it was _her_ fault that Jasmine hadn't gotten much sleep the night before, and it was also _her_ fault that she couldn't use this time to nap. All the way back in first year, after they had become friends, Hermione had poked and prodded her new friend to get her to stay awake through Professor Binns' insomnia-curing lectures. Jasmine must have felt something even then for the other girl, because anyone else she'd have simply told off. Instead, she tried to be the sort of witch that Hermione respected, and as a result, she committed herself to staying awake right alongside Hermione.

It was a decision she frequently regretted, but never more so than this morning. Even Hermione looked half-asleep, so why was Jasmine trying so hard too...

 ***POKE!***

"Wha? Huh?" Jasmine half-shouted as she shot awake in her seat, not entirely aware of where she was or what happened.

"Jasmine," Hermione hissed from next to her, "I can't believe you fell asleep during class! You haven't done that since first year. What's the matter with you? Don't you have any respect for our professor?"

Jasmine was about ready to cry at that point, but then class abruptly ended, and the other students started to come awake and gather up their things to leave. It occurred to Jasmine that she seemed to have lost quite a bit of time. _Why didn't Hermione wake me up right away?_ wondered Jasmine. _What would cause her to miss the fact that I was snoring and drooling? Unless..._

Glaring at her auburn-haired girlfriend as she gathered her books, Hermione was trying hard to look innocent. Too innocent, Jasmine decided — Hermione really was a terrible liar. "You dozed off too, didn't you?" Jasmine accused.

Hermione sniffed. "I don't know what you're talking about," she insisted cooly. "I need to do a little research in the library, are you coming?" Without waiting for an answer, she walked out of the classroom with her head up high. Her gait, however, wasn't nearly as confident as it usually was.

Jasmine **knew** she was right. She'd simply have to wait until the right time to use this information...

Yawning again, Jasmine once more lamented not having gotten enough sleep the night before. It was going to be a _long_ day, and if she fell asleep in the library in front of Hermione, getting a poke in the side would be the least of her worries. Libraries were practically holy sites for the bossy little witch, and woe betide any infidel who desecrated them with drool.

* * *

As it happened, Jasmine wasn't given a chance to drool all over any books in the library, because Hermione didn't intend for them to be working separately on various assignments. Instead, her plan was to sit Jasmine down and have a discussion about the green-eyed witch's temper. Luckily, they were able to get Hermione's customary — and isolated — table where they weren't likely to be overheard.

"Jasmine," Hermione started, "I know you probably don't want to talk about this, but it's becoming an issue. I've seen you angry quite a few times over the past three years, but your reaction to Malfoy's insults yesterday was much worse than I'm used to. I don't know if it's because of... well, you know, what's happened, or if it's something else. But we need to get a handle on it before it gets you into serious trouble."

Hermione was right, she didn't want to talk about this. She didn't like talking about her feelings, any of her feelings. At least, that was her typical attitude. Yesterday, though, she'd managed to open up to Hermione about some feelings that she had tried hard to keep buried. _Maybe I'm changing_? she wondered. _Maybe Hermione is changing me? I suppose I should at least try. If I can tell Hermione that I fancy her, I suppose I can manage this much._

Sighing, Jasmine answered. "You're right, I did feel a lot angrier yesterday than I usually do when the ferret insults one of us. I honestly can't tell you why, though. One second I was fine, the next I was annoyed, and then right after that it felt like this red mist descended over everything. I'm pretty sure that if you hadn't stopped me, I'd have marched over there firing hexes and curses — and I mean some of the nastier ones you and I have been learning, too."

Nodding at this confession, Hermione continued, "That's what I thought. And it took a bit for you to get calmed down again, too. I suspect that once you get that angry, it will be difficult for you to stop yourself. This means we need to find a way to insert some sanity into your thinking before your emotions get that far. Sounds like we only have a window of a second or two." The last was said with a slight smile, but both witches knew that it wasn't a laughing matter.

"What do you suggest?" Jasmine asked.

"Well," Hermione said as she started to slip into "professor mode," "Violence is obviously never the solution..."

"Hold on," Jasmine interjected, holding up one hand. "That I don't agree with. I'll agree that it's a risky solution. I'll agree that it's a solution that comes with heavy costs and can create new problems. I will not, however, agree that it is _never_ the solution. Quite the contrary, in fact: sometimes it is the _only_ solution because sometimes people refuse to stop what they are doing unless you get violent about it."

Frowning, Hermione objected, "Since when?" As usual, Hermione didn't take it well when people disagreed with her about something she considered obvious — it had proven to be a stubborn character flaw to overcome.

Leaning in, Jasmine said in a stage whisper, "Psst, Hermione — it's me, Jasmine." At Hermione's rolled eyes, she continued more normally, "Seriously, have you looked at my life lately? When all these awful things are coming after me, am I just supposed to ask them nicely to stop? In the last few years alone, I've been attacked by a troll, a three-headed dog, a pack of giant spiders, a basilisk, dementors, a dragon, a psychotic tree..."

Hermione interrupted, "Well, that was self-defense, wasn't it? Of course you have to defend yourself against monsters and magical creatures. But humans — you shouldn't use violence against humans."

"...a Death Eater, a possessed teacher trying to kill me," Jasmine continued, undeterred, "an insane professor trying to obliviate me, a professor turned werewolf, Voldemort — twice." She paused, considering. "Well, maybe he only counts as one and a half — have to think about that..."

"Students!" Hermione interjected a little desperately. "You shouldn't use violence against other students!"

Jasmine cocked an eyebrow. "This, from the girl who decked Malfoy at the end of last year? Which I still say was absolutely brilliant, by the way." Hermione had the grace to look embarrassed.

Sighing, Jasmine relented. "I'm sorry, Hermione — my life is a dangerous place."

Hermione slumped in her seat at that response. Clearly this issue wasn't as straightforward as she had always been taught. "OK, I'll grant that violence is sometimes necessary. But you have to try to set that sort of solution aside and work on other options when you can. There are times when you need to avoid violence, _especially_ in a school."

"Right," Jasmine nodded sagely. "Explore non-violent options first. **Then** embrace the violence."

Narrowing her eyes, Hermione said in an exasperated tone, "That's not _quite_ how I would put it, but I suppose that's the best I'll get out of you right now. So what sorts of responses can you use instead of hexes and curses?"

Jasmine tapped her chin in mock-concentration for a moment, then she brightened and announced cheerfully, "I know — insults!"

"What? You want to lower yourself to Malfoy's level, tossing childish insults across the hall? Aside from making you no better than him, you know that Professor Snape will use that as an excuse to take points and issue detentions. What's more, no one will sympathize with you very much."

Jasmine's smile didn't diminish as she explained, "Ah, but I don't mean just any old insults, Hermione. I mean **better** insults!"

"I'm afraid I don't follow," Hermione responded with a mix of confusion and annoyance on her face.

"I'll insult them in ways that don't sound like insults! I'll imply things that are nasty, but not make any overt accusations. If I do it right, I can't be punished because I haven't said anything bad."

That made Hermione stop and look thoughtful for a long moment. "Alright, you've got a point. Words are better than violent spells. If your words aren't overtly insulting, you won't look bad and you won't get punished. If Malfoy and his ilk interpret your words the way you intend, though, it will be a successful retaliation."

Jasmine beamed at the praise, but Hermione wasn't quite done. "I honestly think that it would be better to simply turn and walk away — to not give them the satisfaction of even responding. However, even I'm not naive enough to think that that will always work. With Malfoy, not reacting may encourage him to find worse things to say in order to get the reaction he wants. Your idea might do the same, too. But it's worth trying. If nothing else, thinking up something clever to say may distract you from becoming a green-eyed rage monster."

Jasmine wasn't sure if she was still being praised or not, but decided to take it positively. She then proceeded to ignore her homework in favor of coming up with a selection of subtle zingers to use against bigots like Malfoy. Thinking on one's feet was all very well, she reflected, but some insults were worth the extra effort.


	5. Social Lessons Begin

**A/N:** No, this is not a Ron bashing story, even though things don't start out well for him. He'll need time to grow up and mature.

 **Recommendation:** This chapter's recommended story is "White Knight, Grey Queen," by Jeconais. There aren't many Harry/Pansy fics, but this is an interesting story with a good example of the pairing. "Fan Fic Authors-Net" (no spaces, replace the dash with a dot).

* * *

 **Chapter 05 - Social Lessons Begin**

 **Friday, December 11, 1994, Lunch.**

As Jasmine and Hermione were walking into the Great Hall for lunch, once again a familiar and detested voice rang out loud and clear from the Slytherin table, "Hey, scarhead, have you managed to buy yourself a date for the Yule Ball yet? If you need a loan, I'm sure someone can help." _Of course there isn't any response coming from the teachers,_ Jasmine thought. _In fact, Snape almost looks happy about Malfoy's dig._

As with the last time Malfoy decided to toss out insults at lunch, Jasmine could almost feel her blood begin to boil. She was filled with desire to lash out and start breaking bones, but she remembered the conversation she'd just had with Hermione about controlling her anger. Well, from Hermione's perspective it was about controlling her anger; from Jasmine's perspective, it was about coming up with ways to strike back against her antagonists without getting into trouble. _Toh-may-toh, toh-mah-toh._

This didn't mean _not_ resorting to bone-breaking curses, it only meant _not starting out_ with bone-breaking curses. In public. In full view of multiple members of the Hogwarts staff. That was what Gryffindors do, but the Sorting Hat had originally wanted to place her in Slytherin. So, fine, she'd open with Slytherin tactics. She couldn't deny that it infuriated _her_ when she was on the receiving end of insults. _Time to see how Malfoy likes a taste of his own medicine..._

"As a matter of fact, Mr. Malfoy, I do have a date for the ball," Jasmine answered sweetly. "A delightful gentleman asked me only last night, not many hours after the ball was first announced. I'm looking forward to attending this event with such a handsome and cultured escort." Turning her attention to the Slytherin girl sitting next to Draco, she added, "Don't worry, Miss Parkinson, I'm optimistic that someone may yet invite you. Perhaps even a gentlemen of at least a little refinement and culture." She gave Draco a measuring glance before twisting the knife: "But it's probably best not to get your hopes up too high. Beggars can't be choosers, after all."

With Hermione trying to hold in her sniggers by her side, Jasmine continued on to the Gryffindor table with regal dignity. Neville took a seat across from the two witches and exclaimed, "Merlin, where did that come from? I think Malfoy and Parkinson are still speechless."

"Sounds like a first to me, I can't remember that ever happening," said Hermione as she dished food onto her plate. "Maybe he's making plans to write to his father to complain." She then stole a quick glance up at the head table. "Professor Snape looks fit to be tied — I guess he can't think of any way to spin that into an excuse to dock us points."

"I'm surprised he didn't try anyway," Jasmine muttered. Despite having chosen to use words instead of spells, it was clear that she wasn't any less angry. "Snape is a petty, snivelling bully who is far too interested in protecting Draco when he's also being a petty, snivelling bully. Two peas in a pod. Draco is on a direct path to grow up to be just like either his father or Snape. Or both. Unless something or someone snaps him back — **hard** — and forces him to understand that might doesn't make right, a lot of people are going to end up suffering because of him."

"That's a bit extreme, don't you think...?" Hermione tried to protest.

Jasmine glared at her over the rims of her glasses. "Hermione, the only way he doesn't become a criminal like his father or a bully like Snape is if he changes. Except he likes who he is and what he's doing — he currently has no incentive to be different because he thinks he can get whatever he wants by behaving this way. It's how his father and Snape have taught him. That leaves negative reinforcement. Punishment. **Pain**."

Hermione and Neville both looked a bit ill at hearing this, but neither quite knew what to say. "Hey, I'm not particularly chuffed at the idea either," Jasmine continued, "but it's been obvious to me since first year. Maybe because it's basically how the Dursleys tried to raise me — all stick, no carrot. I just haven't said it out loud because... well... I'm not sure why I've never mentioned it. You might have noticed that he avoided you for a while after you decked him, Hermione. Direct evidence that pain and humiliation can work with him."

"You two wanted to start lessons tonight, right?" Neville asked in an attempt to change the subject. After receiving nods in response, he continued "I was thinking of bringing Ginny Weasley into this, if that's OK with you. You wouldn't have to tell her your secret, but including her in our lessons would be easier than trying to sneak around her. She'll wonder what's happening if we keep going off alone — remember, she offered to help you, Jasmine. Also, a fourth person would make dancing lessons more productive in the long run."

"Sounds good to me," Jasmine said. "But if we include Ginny, we may have to include Ron. I know they don't always get along, but I can imagine her feeling bad about being asked without him. We were, after all, his friends before we became her friends. Since we won't be revealing any secrets, I guess that's not a big deal, but are the two of you OK with that?" Both Neville and Hermione agreed, albeit reluctantly.

Ginny picked that minute to enter the Great Hall for lunch, and the trio of fourth years waved her over to join them. "How were classes, Gin?" Hermione asked.

"Good," she said cheerfully as she sat next to Neville. "Got delayed because we had so much to clean up in the greenhouse after the Herbology lesson."

The other two girls pointedly stared at Neville at this juncture; at first he looked confused, but then comprehension started to dawn on him. Apparently, since he was going to be the primary teacher for their evening lessons, he also had to be the one to invite someone new — especially since it was his idea for Ginny to join in the first place. _Maybe being responsible isn't all it's cracked up to be_ , he lamented.

"Say, Gin..." Neville began. When he didn't say anything else right away, she turned to look at him quizzically. Clearing his throat, he tried again, "I'm going to help Hermione and Jasmine learn dancing during some of the coming evenings before the Yule Ball. Well, mostly Jasmine since Hermione knows some dancing already, but both she and I need some practice too. Would you be interested? A fourth person would help."

Ginny's eyes lit up with excitement. "Wow, would I! I've been worried about that — my mum showed me some dancing once, but I'm not sure how well I'll remember any of it. I'd feel so much better going to the ball if I could dance. Well, that's assuming I go. I won't be able to if no one asks me..." She looked hopefully at Neville and even tried to flutter her eyelashes a bit, but the effect was utterly lost on the oblivious boy, who had turned back to his meal, mission accomplished. Jasmine and Hermione looked at each other in concern — this was a potential problem they needed to nip in the bud.

Over Neville's shoulder, Ginny saw her brother Ron enter the Great Hall; thus distracted from trying to catch Neville's attention, she waved Ron over to join them. "Oh," she said suddenly, "what about Ron? Were you going to invite him? I'm sure he can use the help." She appeared a little conflicted when she asked, but she looked sincere.

"Sure, if he wants," Jasmine replied while trying to look positive. Even with the current state of their friendship, she probably wouldn't mind doing this with him, but she was now also protecting a vital secret that seemed to put her on edge when certain people got too close — including Ron.

For his part, Ron seemed pleasantly surprised to be invited to join the group for lunch. The strained relationships hadn't allowed for much casual socializing, while interactions in class tended to be a bit stiff and formal. Greeting everyone as he sat next to his sister, Ron proceeded to use both hands to dish two and three helpings of everything on to his plate.

Glad that Ron was on the other side of Ginny, Neville didn't hesitate to take the initiative this time. "Say, Ron, the four of us plan on learning and practicing some dancing in the evenings before the Yule Ball. Are you interested in joining us?"

Ron's grimace indicated that the idea of dancing didn't appeal much. "I dunno. Is this going to take up a lot of time?"

"Oh, I almost forgot," said Hermione, "Neville will also be explaining about traditional customs and practices of magical society."

"Yeah," Neville added, "customs for formal events, how people should be addressed, the relationships between old families, formal etiquette... _table manners_." The stress on that last item was lost on no one except its intended target, who had apparently lost interest much earlier in the description.

"Sorry, mate, I'm going to pass on that," Ron said through a mouthful of food. "Sounds right boring."

This response surprised no one, though only Ginny seemed to show any regret at it. She bounced back quickly, expressing some excitement at the opportunity to learn some of the things which are taught to the children in wealthier families. How much of that was genuine interest in the subject and how much was a product of her interest in the teacher was a question neither of the other two witches could answer.

Hermione didn't spend much time thinking about that, though. She was still preoccupied with Jasmine's statements about Malfoy. She couldn't shake the feeling that they were a bit over the top and that it was somehow inappropriate to so seriously contemplate violence as a means for disciplining a student. She still tended to regard her punching of Malfoy last year as an aberration — and the fact that she enjoyed it was so unlike her! That wasn't how she had been raised at all. Her parents taught her to go to teachers and the police when she had a problem, not to take the rules or the law into her own hands — especially so violently.

At the same time, though, she couldn't deny that he had apparently not been disciplined by lesser means before now, nor did it look like those in authority had any intention of starting soon. Malfoy wasn't a toddler anymore. He wasn't even really a child — not while possessing and learning to wield a wand, which could be a deadly weapon. She'd have to give more thought to what Jasmine had said, both at lunch and earlier in the library.

* * *

 **Friday, December 11, 1994, Afternoon.**

Jasmine groaned in resignation as she and her friends made their way down to the castle dungeons. "Maybe publicly embarrassing Malfoy and annoying Snape right before a double potions lesson — and in a way that denied them the opportunity to avenge their wounded pride — wasn't the smartest thing to do."

"You think so, Jas?" Hermione asked, smiling thinly. She wasn't looking forward to this class any more than her friend was — because the two of them always partnered together, any targeting of Jasmine would inevitably affect her as well.

"I'm sorry, Hermione," Jasmine said ruefully in response to her friend's unspoken concerns. "This wouldn't be so bad if the professor was a competent teacher who was able to act more mature than we managed back when we were ickle firsties."

"Like that's ever going to happen," added Neville. He'd always been as much of a target as Jasmine, even if no one could ever explain why. Hermione simply held her tongue; despite having to acknowledge that neither Jasmine nor Neville were treated well in Potions, it was difficult for her to openly and directly criticize a professor like that.

"Don't worry about it, Jas," Hermione said. "It's not your fault. I think that the position of professor should be respected, but his attacks on you, Neville, and anyone you partner with shows that maybe he hasn't earned that respect."

Rounding the corner, they saw the Slytherin students already standing outside the potions lab. Malfoy seemed to have been waiting for their arrival because he almost immediately stepped out from the group and started in on Jasmine. "So, Potter, you claim to already have a date to the Yule Ball, and one that you didn't have to pay for? I'm shocked. I was certain that gold would have to change hands at the very least, but Pansy bet me that gold wouldn't be enough, and that you'd have to spread your legs before anyone would lower themselves to be your date."

While most of the Slytherin students snickered at this, Hermione grabbed Neville's arm and held him back. She had felt him tense and realized that he must suddenly be feeling rather protective of their mutual friend. _What is it about boys and dating that makes them get all macho_ , Hermione wondered, _even when it's just a date between friends?!_

"Has that been your own personal experience, Miss Parkinson?" Jasmine asked with fake sympathy. "I wouldn't know myself, so I must bow to your superior wisdom on such matters. Perhaps that answers so many people's questions about how and why you and Mr. Malfoy became a couple. Speaking of whom..."

Jasmine turned to the blonde bigot, leaving the pug-nosed Parkinson gaping in outrage. "You're correct, Mr. Malfoy, I do have a date. I'm sorry that you waited too long to ask me yourself, but I must confess that I likely would not have accepted your invitation even if it had come early enough. I appreciate the thought, of course, but I couldn't possibly be seen in public being escorted by one such as yourself. I do have standards to maintain, after all."

Right then, the potions lab door opened, and Jasmine was able to move deftly into the dark, dank room, her fellow Gryffindors following close behind while the stunned Slytherins remained in the corridor, trying to figure out what had just happened. For the entire lesson, Malfoy and Parkinson were fuming so much that they were distracted and made a number of mistakes in their brewing. Professor Snape, of course, gave them full marks anyway.

Yet upon arriving at the table where Jasmine and Hermione worked, all he could do was sneer. "What do you call this, Potter? Do you actually consider this to be brewing? You're wasting my time and yours with this pathetic work. Just because you managed to worm your way into the tournament doesn't mean you're going to get any special favors from me in this class." He then slapped Jasmine with an Acceptable for creating a potion that was barely one shade away from the correct color.

While walking back to the Gryffindor dorm to drop off their books before dinner, Jasmine whispered to Neville, "Let's meet in the training room a half hour after dinner ends, but tell Ginny to arrive a half hour after that — Hermione and I need to talk to you about a couple of things before she gets involved. We should have done it earlier, but I didn't think of it."

"Sure," Neville said as he nodded. "I'll make sure she knows."

* * *

 **Friday, December 11, 1994, Late Evening.**

When Neville entered the trio's training classroom, he noticed that Jasmine and Hermione were already there, sitting close together. Then he noticed that their robes were rumpled and their hair was a bit of a mess. Neville Longbottom may not have been the most observant of boys, but he wasn't an idiot, either.

Neither was he quite prepared for this particular distraction, however, and he stumbled into a chair and almost fell. That snapped him out of it, so he simply used the chair to sit in and said, "So, what did you want to talk about?"

The girls looked at each other and snorted in simultaneous amusement at Neville's attempted recovery. "Well," Jasmine began, "we have a couple of issues to cover. First, what do we tell others about you and me going to the ball together? I don't mind people knowing — it's not like I'm embarrassed or anything — but I suspect that people knowing will lead to a lot of gossip and negative attention, especially for you. So I recommend that we keep it quiet."

Hermione nodded in agreement while Neville looked thoughtful for a moment before saying, "I hadn't given that a lot of thought. I haven't said anything myself, but only because I thought you hadn't — I was going to follow your lead and let you announce it when and how you wanted. Now that you've explained it, though, I guess you're right. Besides, maybe it will be fun to watch people trying to guess. I wonder if anyone will figure it out?"

"Great, next issue is Ginny," Hermione stated. "I don't think you noticed, but she seemed interested in learning how to dance with us — not simply the learning part, but also in who she'd be learning from."

"Huh?" Neville asked in confusion.

Hermione sighed and opted for bluntness. "Neville, I'm pretty sure she's interested in you, at least a little bit. I think she was angling for you to invite her to the ball. I'm not absolutely certain, I'll admit, but I think I'm right about this. We can wait to see how she acts tonight if you want to be more certain, but one way or another we need to deal with this. She can't go to the ball without a date and she can't be waiting on you to ask her."

"Uh..." Neville seemed to lose the power of speech and his face blossomed red upon learning that a girl might sincerely want to go out on a date with him.

"I'm so sorry, Neville," Jasmine told him. "I expected that someone would want to go to the ball with you, and not simply as friends. It's early enough — if you want to change your mind so you can take Ginny..." Hermione immediately reached over and grabbed her girlfriend's arm, recognizing and trying to stave off Jasmine's usual assumption that she had to take the blame for anything and everything that went wrong around her.

Jasmine's apology brought Neville back to his senses. "No!" he said forcefully. "Absolutely not! I asked and you accepted — I _wan_ **t** to go with you, even if it is only as friends. I'm treating this as a real date, not a fake date, because you're my friends and I know that doing this will help both of you. I haven't been able to help you much before with your problems, but this is something I can do, so I'm going to do it right." The normally shy and retiring Neville Longbottom looked every bit the pureblood scion now, with straightened back and power behind his eyes.

Both witches got a bit misty eyed at this declaration from their friend. Without another word, they jumped up and wrapped him in a joint embrace. This brought the shy Neville back out as his blush returned and his stammering resumed. After they returned to their seats, Jasmine said, "There's no easy solution, but I think that we'll have to tell Ginny about us going to the ball as a couple. We'll also have to make it clear to her that we're keeping it a secret. In fact, we should probably make a blanket statement about how things discussed here may be private and can't be revealed to outsiders. Since Ron won't be joining us, I think I feel a little more comfortable telling her some of what we're working on. But not our big secret. We're not prepared for Ginny learning that."

Neville nodded in understanding. "You do that; I'll let her know about us going to the ball."

After a few minutes of casual conversation about the day's classes, Ginny entered the room. When she looked around, she could see that it had been used recently for activities other than regular class work. Most desks and chairs had been moved against the far walls, some even being piled on top of each other.

While Jasmine checked the Marauders Map to ensure that no one was skulking around in any nearby corridors or rooms, Hermione explained the importance of keeping secrets.

"Originally it may have only been about the tournament, but there have been other... developments since then. I can't go into details right now, but if you're going to spend time here training and helping us train, you're going to hear things and maybe help with things that we can't let others know about. This room has become a sort of sanctuary for us, a place where we can talk honestly and openly about personal matters. We don't want to have to censor ourselves when you're around. Are you prepared to keep our secrets? Are you willing to keep quiet about things you learn here, even if that means hiding them from your family or professors?"

Ginerva Weasley was taken aback at what she was hearing. She had expected to spend some time picking up dance moves, learning a bit about etiquette, and hopefully getting a chance to make an impression on a boy she hoped would ask her to the ball. Apparently, expressing a desire to help Jasmine Potter train and accepting an invitation to learn some things herself required far more commitment than she had realized.

 _Then again, maybe I_ _ **should**_ _have realized it_ , she thought. When was anything simple or casual with Jasmine Potter? This was the girl who had been shunned for a year by the whole school, then rescued her from a 30 meter, millennium-old basilisk under the castle. This was the girl who used a patronus charm to drive off a hundred dementors while they were in a feeding frenzy. This was the girl who was somehow entered against her will into a deadly tournament and proceeded to outfly a Hungarian Horntail, one of the nastiest dragons on the planet.

 _Yeah, come to think of it, I should have known that there'd be far more than casual dancing and training on the menu._ In fact, whatever these "secrets" might be, they were probably only the beginning — it wasn't even the middle of December yet, and the worst didn't usually happen to Jasmine until June. Things were liable to get interesting over the coming months. _Can I handle "interesting"?_ she wondered.

Making her decision, she affirmed, "You can count on me, Hermione," and stood a little straighter. "I promised I'd help Jasmine, and if that means keeping secrets or helping with something outside the tournament, I'm your girl." There was scarcely a choice to make here: even if she didn't owe Jasmine Potter a witch's debt, she could see how much of a burden the green-eyed witch was forced to shoulder year after year. There was no chance that she'd turn away and force her to shoulder it alone, not if there was some way she could help. "I'll even give you a magical oath, if you want."

Hermione smiled warmly. "Thank you. I hadn't decided if I should ask or not, but since you're offering, we happen to have a good oath that you can give. Neville's already made the same oath, in fact, so you won't have to feel singled out."

After giving her oath, which Ginny was happy to see would not cause her to risk losing her magic or her life, the four Gryffindors proceeded to learn about dancing. Ginny and Jasmine had to sit out initially while Neville and Hermione worked with each other to refresh their memories of their own dancing instruction. For each dance, Ginny and Jasmine would start out watching and listening while Neville and Hermione practiced together.

"After that," Neville explained, "Jasmine and I will mostly practice together. There will be some switching of partners, of course, but Jasmine and I will spend most of our time together because we'll be attending the ball as a couple. That means we'll need to get used to dancing with each other."

Ginny couldn't hide the disappointed look on her face, and Jasmine tried to distract her a little by leaning over to say that this was one of their secrets. "We don't want to produce a lot of negative attention, especially for Neville," she explained, "so the two of us plan to simply refuse to answer when asked who our dates will be."

Perhaps it was because they were working together, but both Neville and Hermione seemed to remember their dancing lessons fairly easily, and before the end they were barely stepping on each other's feet. This gave some hope to the other two, who were far less experienced.

Neville's etiquette lesson turned out to be rather less boring than Jasmine had feared. She had realized that she might need to know about this sort of thing, based on what little information she had received from Professor McGonagall, but that didn't mean she was looking forward to actually learning it. Hermione, of course, was anxious to learn almost anything, especially if it was useful.

Neville started out with how to formally introduce, greet, and address people in magical high society, so they all had fun bowing, curtsying, and using made-up titles to simulate encounters they might have. Surprising the girls with his decisive attitude, Neville instructed them that at future lessons they'd have to demonstrate their knowledge of these customs by properly greeting and addressing each other, just as they would at a real formal ball.

Before leaving, they all agreed to meet back at the room after breakfast the next morning to work on the puzzle of Jasmine's screeching golden egg. There was plenty of time since the second task wasn't until late February, but Hermione in particular didn't want to leave it for too long. No one knew how long exactly it would take to prepare for the task once they had the clue, so it would be better to ensure that Jasmine would have the maximum amount of time possible.

* * *

 **Saturday, December 12, 1994, Morning.**

Weekend breakfasts were much more sparsely attended than during the week, so the Gryffindor quartet was able to get into the Great Hall, eat, and get back out again without many people paying attention to them. On the way to their training room, Jasmine tried to carefully bring up a topic with Ginny that the others agreed needed to be broached, though none had been certain how to do it without causing further difficulties.

"So, Gin," Jasmine started, trying to sound casual but unsure whether she was successful or not, "Have you thought about who you might go to the ball with?" It was hard to miss the slight hitch in Ginny's step at that question, but to her credit she didn't give any further outward reaction. "Learning dancing and etiquette won't be as useful to you if we can't get you a proper partner to escort you."

Jasmine's deliberate use of the word "we" in that statement did not go unnoticed, and it had the desired effect on the younger witch. "Are you saying that you'd be willing to help me?" Ginny asked. The others noticed that she seemed surprised that help of this sort would be offered.

"Of course," Jasmine insisted. "We know that you won't be able to go to the ball unless you're with someone from fourth year or above, and getting a date from one of the higher years that you don't know well will be difficult."

"Is there anyone in our year that you've had your eye on?" Hermione asked. "Maybe someone that one of the three of us knows well enough to talk to for you?"

Ginny's previously quiet and reserved demeanor quickly disappeared and was replaced by a bubbly enthusiasm. It appeared as if she might have given up hope at getting a date to the ball, but now that hope was being renewed. "I don't know many boys in your year very well, but in Gryffindor, at least, Dean Thomas seems like he's pretty nice. Seamus, I'm sorry to say, is a bit creepy at times, and there's no way I'm going with my own brother."

Neville laughed at that. "Yeah, Seamus can be a bit of a perv. He's OK, but if I had a sister I don't think I'd want her dating him. And Ron...well, unless he changes his attitude, I don't think he'll be getting a date at all. But Dean is nice. I'll try to bring you up in conversation when I talk to him next and see what he says."

"Oh, thanks Neville!" Ginny said as they approached the door to their training room. While Jasmine checked the map, Hermione turned to the boy and asked, "What did you mean about Ron's attitude?"

Grimacing, Neville tried to explain. "As far as I can tell, he hasn't made any efforts whatsoever to attract or impress any girls. Despite that, whenever the subject of the ball comes up — especially when it's just us guys in the dorm — he insists that he doesn't want to go with any ugly birds and hopes that all the good ones aren't taken too quickly. It's like he expects a pretty girl to fall into his arms simply because... well, I don't know why. Because of who he is?"

"Honestly! That... that... ohhh! He makes me so mad sometimes!" The others all laughed — Hermione hadn't had a really good Ron Rant in a while, and Jasmine thought that maybe she might have missed them a little. That was one thing Jasmine had yet to figure out about Hermione. Ron wasn't a complete idiot, and while some of the things he said could be attributed to "speaking before thinking" disease, not all of them could. Even the thickest boy should eventually learn to stop giving voice to certain opinions, even if he didn't learn to stop having them at all.

This meant that Ron was probably doing it deliberately, at least some of the time. This also meant that either Hermione hadn't figured out that he wasn't so dense... or perhaps she had, but she was trying to enjoy debating anyway, despite how often she ended up frustrated, in tears, or both. Most days, Jasmine was inclined to go with the former: while she herself had a more isolated upbringing than Hermione, the other witch had arrived at Hogwarts more socially stunted. She was loads better now than in first year, when she was constantly trying to act like a prefect and always trying to show off to the professors, but she still had a ways to go.

Hoping to distract Hermione before she got going, Neville reached the door and ushered her in with an elaborate flourish, adding, "After you, m'lady."

Hermione giggled in spite of herself, responding with a bob and a demure "Why, thank you, kind sir!" before they all filed into the classroom to wrestle with the problem of the golden egg.


	6. Distractions and Realizations

**A/N:** It was pointed out to me (by more than one person!) that I inadvertently made Hermione sound like a masochist in the last chapter. I apologize to all for my unclear wording, which I have changed. Jasmine was considering the possibility that Hermione enjoyed debating and kept trying to find that in Ron, despite the fact that he always disappointed her, **not** that she enjoyed being reduced to tears time after time by him. And Jasmine rejected that option anyway, deciding instead that Hermione probably hadn't figured out that Ron had been deliberately baiting her (some of the time, a least). Thanks to Silently Watches and Blitzstrahl for pointing out the problem.

 **Recommendation:** This chapter's recommended fic is "Escape" by JackPotr. He's only written a couple of Harry/Hermione stories, and this is a great tale of Harry leaving Britain after the final battle and Hermione realizing where she belongs. It's short and sweet.

* * *

 **Chapter 06 - Distractions and Realizations**

 **Saturday, December 12, 1994, Late Morning.**

After two hours of work in their commandeered classroom, the four Gryffindor friends had nothing to show for their efforts to solve the puzzle of the screeching egg except sore ears and frayed nerves. Casting the Bubble Head charm muffled the noise, but it was an advanced charm, and none of them were experienced enough to get it to hold for more than a few minutes (though Jasmine's and Hermione's seemed to last longest). Fortunately Hermione's silencing spells on the classroom door were strong enough to prevent outsiders from being alerted and coming to see what was going on.

Jasmine grumbled about stupid tournament organizers and finally agreed with everyone else when the suggestion was made to quit for a while. Everyone knew that "a while" might last until after Christmas, given how many other things they still needed to deal with. For that reason, it was decided that they would all do some independent research about different elements and compare notes once they met again.

Neville would focus on the relief at the top of the egg because it looked like a type of plant. Hermione would research the runes found etched around the bottom of the egg. Jasmine would look into languages and other types of communication that might incorporate screeching. Ginny would investigate the idea of an "egg" itself, in case it had more meaning than the obvious need to have an egg for a dragon's nest.

Fortunately the second task wasn't until the end of February so Jasmine wasn't worried. Yet. Hermione, in contrast, got nervous whenever she thought about it and so would ensure that no one would forget.

The three fourth-year students decided to spend the rest of the morning working in the library while Ginny chose instead to return to the Gryffindor common room to work with a couple of her year-mates. Once ensconced at Hermione's favorite library table, the three friends got to work on the various essays that had been assigned earlier that week. Despite being late in the morning, the library was relatively empty with just a few groups and individuals at work. The only noteworthy person there was Viktor Krum, the Durmstrang champion, who was reading something at one of the only tables in sight of their own.

Before this term, Neville hadn't had much experience doing assignments with friends and was surprised at how quickly the writing could go when working with these two witches — and usually with much better grades, too. _I wonder how Ron is doing without their help?_ he thought. Well, there was no sense dwelling on it — he felt pretty sure Ron would eventually work his way back into the girls' trust. _Assuming he continues to behave_ , Neville amended silently.

At lunch they met back up with Ginny, where she and Neville were invited to help the other two with what would be the first explicitly secret project being pursued. "I wish I could tell you more," Hermione explained, "because I know it's hard making a decision when you're in the dark like this. Unfortunately, I can't — it's an important secret for us. I can, however, tell you that it is about the behavior of the headmaster, and that another member of staff has recommended we do this because it might point to possible harm that has been done to Jasmine."

Ginny and Neville were at first a bit reluctant to give up more time, and to something unknown, but the hints offered definitely had them intrigued. Combined with their desire to help and protect Jasmine, they had reason enough to join the other two in the commandeered classroom, at least for a little while. They never expected that "a little while" would become nearly four hours, longer than they had spent on the egg that morning.

The girls started out by explaining how Jasmine had come to distrust Professor McGonagall, then about how they had approached the professor herself with their concerns, shocking her into remorse once they had laid it all out for her. Neville had already heard some of this earlier, but now Jasmine and Hermione went into far more detail.

At first they found it all difficult to accept, but the longer the girls went on, the harder it became to deny. Even more shocking was hearing that McGonagall had recommended that they cast a critical eye on Dumbledore's involvement in Jasmine Potter's life. Dumbledore was one of the giants of magical Britain and had been for some fifty years; to suggest that there was anything remotely questionable about his actions was tantamount to blasphemy — especially to Ginny, whose family had long been staunch Dumbledore supporters.

However, they couldn't ignore the evidence that had already been amassed against McGonagall, and much of that counted against the headmaster as well, so they all got to work. Ginny and Neville didn't have as much to contribute since they hadn't been as closely involved with Jasmine as Hermione had, but they both had stories to tell, and as purebloods who were raised in the magical community their perspectives proved to be helpful when analyzing the many incidents and conversations.

Ideally they would have started with Dumbledore's early years, but none of them knew enough about that to even begin. Hermione promised she'd do the research later, assuming she could find unbiased books. They also couldn't say anything about his legislative record, which inspired another promise of research from the bushy-haired witch. Thus they started with Jasmine's own life, and it wasn't an auspicious beginning once they considered the ramifications of leaving a toddler on a doorstep like a bottle of milk — and in the middle of a November night, too!

Jasmine had to admit that the Durselys' treatment of her was a bit more understandable given that they were never asked if they would or could raise a second child and were apparently never offered any sort of help, financial or otherwise. She honestly had no idea how much of a burden she had been on their lives and finances. That didn't excuse their behavior, of course; nor did it excuse the fact that either Dumbledore never bothered to check on Jasmine, or else he did, knew exactly what was happening, and left her there anyway.

"Who on earth does that sort of thing?!" asked Ginny, giving voice to the outrage that they all were feeling. Her reaction would have been much worse had Jasmine gone into significant detail about how she was treated at the Dursleys, but she wasn't quite ready to do that yet.

Hermione, after thinking for a few minutes, suggested that it seemed awfully suspicious that no one from the school or from the local authority ever checked up on her. If her appearance when she first arrived at Hogwarts had been indicative — and Jasmine assured them that it was — she had spent most of her life walking around too thin, too small, and wearing clothing that obviously didn't fit her. "Teachers are required by law to report even a suspicion of abuse," Hermione pointed out, "so what happened? Did they all _magically_ forget? Or did someone inform the authorities, but that report was _magically_ lost?"

Jasmine looked questioningly at Hermione when she raised these issues as if to say, _Who could have done such a thing?_ Hermione tilted her head sideways and looked expectantly at her. Jasmine's eyebrows rose almost into her hairline when she reached the same conclusion her girlfriend obviously had. _Dumbledore? We think he may have done some heinous things, but... this?_ Hermione gave a little shrug of resignation, knowing they had no evidence of wrongdoing but couldn't afford to ignore the possibility _._

Ginny and Neville didn't even realize that the other two had just had a silent conversation, much less what the topic was.

They then proceeded through a variety of strange or suspicious things about her life: having only the kind but admittedly hapless Hagrid to introduce her to the wizarding world, the fact that she was already recognizable and famous even before then, the absence of mail, and her complete ignorance about basic things like the scope of her family's inheritance — and did she even have any other relatives? Next came concerns about Hogwarts as a school: some notably poor teachers, the lack of discipline for misbehaving students (even if some of the beneficiaries were the Marauders and the Weasley twins), tolerance of pureblood bigotry, and a general failure to provide guidance.

The most important topic was of course Jasmine's experiences at Hogwarts. Every year it seemed she had saved the school and/or the headmaster's job, despite the fact that that should be a task for adults. All she had received as recognition had been some house points, and never once was she offered any sort of counseling to deal with the deaths and dangers she'd faced.

In the end, the four students were all disturbed about both the number of questionable incidents and how serious some of them had been. Hermione had filled up dozens of sheets of parchment and was covered in splotches of ink because her growing anger prevented her from being her usually neat self. It was a somber and depressed group that split up so they could get a bit of homework done before dinner, but they all promised to be back after the meal so they could practice some more dancing. They agreed that they could use something fun and distracting to end the day with.

* * *

 **Sunday, December 13, 1994, Early Morning.**

The Hogwarts library tended to be even more sparsely populated on Sunday mornings than on Saturdays, though it was noteworthy that Viktor Krum was once again present. The relative emptiness of the library always suited Hermione Granger, which was why she had long made it a habit to use the library during these unpopular hours. Well, she used the library at all hours, to be honest, but everyone knew that she could be found here early most weekend mornings.

These were the times that she could be guaranteed use of the table she wanted (a table she threatened many times to ward against everyone else, once she learned the necessary rune sets), to find the books she needed (thus necessitating the larger, stronger table), and to avoid the distractions of chatting, pestering students (because libraries are for books, not annoying people). Though to be fair, there was one other she graciously conceded should be allowed use of the library alongside her: Jasmine Potter.

Jasmine, for her part, was never the library or book snob that Hermione was, nor was she as academically competitive as Hermione was driven to be. This didn't mean that she wasn't smart or creative, but left to her own devices she probably would have settled for a much lower standard of work in her classes. That ceased to be an option after she'd saved Hermione from that troll.

For her part, Hermione certainly wasn't going to let her first friend be anything less than the best witch she could possibly be. It was that sort of bossiness that helped prevent Hermione from having any _other_ close friends, and it definitely grated on the green-eyed witch at times. Yet she must have seen something in Hermione that made her persevere in the friendship, trying to moderate her bossy mannerisms while Hermione in turn worked to get her friend to be more committed and driven in her academics.

Somewhere along the way, they had found a comfortable middle ground which they could inhabit together. _That's why Jasmine usually accompanies me to the library early on weekend mornings despite her preference to have a lie in,_ mused Hermione. _That's also why we usually quit early enough before lunch to go for a walk, despite my preference to keep working until the library closes._

It could be a delicate balance, but it worked for them. At least, it had worked for the past few years — now, however, Hermione wasn't so sure.

She'd already organized and rewritten her notes on Dumbledore for their afternoon meeting with Professor McGonagall, and she wanted to get in a little research into Dumbledore's early life — or at least get a handle on how good the material in the library was.

Unfortunately, she had become distracted... and Hermione Granger _hated_ being distracted from her work. The current source of her distraction was none other than the girl sitting across from her. _Being distracted by her isn't that unusual,_ Hermione noted to herself. But she'd long since learned how to deal with Jasmine's most common distracting behaviors — talking about Quidditch, trying to balance a quill on her nose, cackling over some new plan to thwart her nemesis of the week, and of course deliberately mispronouncing spells solely for the purpose of getting a rise out of her. _She thinks I don't know it's deliberate._

These were all things Hermione had learned to deal with, but now Jasmine had somehow found a new and diabolical method of utterly distracting her from work. _She's just sitting there,_ Hermione fumed. _Working!_ Jasmine had always been smart and a hard worker, at least when she put her mind to it, and Hermione always liked seeing her do well.

 _Now, though, there's something more._ Looking up from her book, the bushy-haired witch licked her lips while staring at her new girlfriend. _Now... she looks_ _ **good**_ _while doing it._

Granted, Jasmine had always been pretty and was getting prettier as the years went by; but now, instead of simply being an intellectual realization, it was something Hermione could _feel_. Her heart had sped up, there were butterflies in her stomach, her mouth was dry... for a bit, she was afraid she might be getting sick. Worse, the more she looked at Jasmine, the greater the reaction; the greater the reaction, the more distracted she was; the more distracted she was, the more she ended up looking.

 _Holy Cricket!_ Hermione realized, _I really am falling for her, aren't I? I had my first kiss Thursday morning. I had my first snogging session Friday night. Now here it is, only Sunday morning, and all I want to do is jump across this table and snog her senseless. How did that happen? Is this normal?_

Jasmine picked that moment to catch Hermione staring at her and of course gave her that lopsided grin of hers before asking, "Whatcha thinking about there so hard?" A part of Hermione so wanted to tell the truth and say "snogging you senseless," just to see how much _she_ liked being distracted. A slightly larger part, though, was still embarrassed to be having such thoughts at all and would never admit to them in public, so instead she simply answered, "What color knickers you're wearing."

Hermione froze and thought her heart might have stopped completely. _Where in Merlin's name did_ _ **that**_ _come from?!_ Jasmine looked a little puzzled, but said simply, "Well, all you have to do was ask..." Hermione felt herself blush so furiously that she wondered how it was that she still had blood left for anywhere else in her body.

 _And this is why I hate being distracted,_ Hermione thought, _I can't concentrate on_ _ **anything**_ _that I try to do! I can't even control what words come out of my mouth!_

Quickly packing her books, Hermione grabbed Jasmine's hand and started muttering, "So much for that, we might as well leave. There's no way I'm getting any further work done now. I hope you're happy, distracting me so much. I don't see how you expect me to get any work done at all, with you sitting there, reading, and... and... wearing colored knickers. I mean, **honestly**!"

Jasmine looked thoughtful for a moment at Hermione's babbling, then leaned in close and whispered with exaggerated innocence, "What? Would you prefer I didn't wear any?"

* * *

 **Sunday, December 13, 1994, Afternoon.**

When the two witches entered Professor McGonagall's office after lunch, Hermione's face was still flaming, and Jasmine sported a self-satisfied smile. Minerva looked closer and didn't see the disheveled clothing or tousled hair that usually characterized a recent visit to a broom cupboard, but she wasn't sure she wanted to know what had caused these reactions. Sometimes it's best to simply let sleeping hippogriffs lie.

"Well," Minerva began after all three witches were seated on either side of her desk, "is there anything either of you want to ask or say before we start? Have you done as I suggested and given some thought to the actions of the headmaster?"

"As a matter of fact, we have," answered Jasmine, who then turned to look at Hermione. The red-faced witch was staring straight ahead as if she hadn't heard anything, then suddenly she seemed to come back to herself, saying, "Oh, yes. Right." Reaching into her bag, she pulled out a sheaf of parchment to hand over to her professor. "The two of us worked with Neville Longbottom and Ginny Weasley to come up with a list of questionable actions and events. The first piece of parchment is a summary list; the rest contain all the details we know of."

Minerva was impressed with the thoroughness of the work, though perhaps not entirely surprised, given the source. Even just reading over the summary, she experienced a combination of anger and shame — anger that so many awful things had happened to a child, and shame at her own role in many of them.

In the end, shame won out, but it was a near thing. She had to close her eyes for a moment after putting down the parchment in order to regain her composure. Once she trusted her voice enough to resume speaking, she looked back and forth between the two students. "Thank you for this — there is information in here that even I wasn't aware of. However, I assume that you have left out some details... like, for example, everything you went through with your relatives, Miss Potter?"

Jasmine suddenly found something interesting to pull at in her lap. She couldn't bring herself to meet anyone's eyes, but she did nod her head. Only Hermione's hand on her arm kept her from jumping up and running. She hadn't been willing to discuss anything but the barest of generalities when Ginny and Neville were present; it had been hard enough to explain the few extra details to Hermione later.

"I realize that this isn't a pleasant subject, but I would recommend going into specifics. If we are ever to use this against the headmaster, the more specific details we have — including dates, if possible — the better." Both girls looked sharply at their professor upon hearing this. Neither had expected that either they or anyone else would act against Dumbledore.

"Yes, you heard me right," Minerva continued. "I'm not promising you that we ever will. I'm not even making any promises about how — we might not be able to do more than merely threaten him with releasing it. But whatever we might want to do, we'll be more likely to accomplish our goals if we have more information. And yes, I do mean **we**. I have failed you both, you in particular Miss Potter, and I don't intend to do that again. I'll be helping and supporting you in whatever way I can."

After straightening up the sheaf of parchment, Minerva pulled out her wand and duplicated it with a quick wave. Handing what might have been the original over to Hermione, she said, "Please take this back and add to it anything else that you can. I'll add to the copy I have. Later, we can combine the two into a more complete and accurate record of events. In fact, we should consider making it a standing appointment to meet Sunday afternoons. We'll have enough matters to discuss that I think we'll be able to fill the rest of the school year with ease."

"Professor," Jasmine started after a moment, "assuming that everything we wrote down is true as far as we know it, what has given him the right to meddle in my life so much?"

"That's a good question, and I'm not sure if there is a good answer. One likely possibility is that he might have asserted some form of guardianship over you."

"Guardianship?" Jasmine asked. "I thought the Dursleys were my guardians."

"That's right, I'm sorry," Minerva responded. "I mean a magical guardianship."

"What's that?" Hermione interjected, frowning.

Sighing, Minerva answered, "This is never easy to explain to muggleborn students. In the muggle world, a child's parents or guardians are normally contacted for permission to do certain things. The same is true in the magical community... except where muggle parents are concerned. You see, muggles don't know enough about magic to easily make informed decisions for their children, and it's difficult to get them into magical places where they can see what's going on. Unfortunately, given the magical community's lack of respect for muggles, the category of things that a magical guardian has authority over has expanded greatly."

"Does every muggleborn student have a magical guardian?" Hermione asked.

"Yes and no," Minerva answered. "Usually, there's no need to go beyond what is already covered for all students under the concept of _in loco parentis_. So decisions are made by whomever is the immediately responsible adult — the healer, the headmaster, or even your head of house. When a more serious situation arises, the headmaster makes a determination about whether this is something muggle parents can deal with, or if it requires too much magical knowledge or experience and is thus a decision that a magical guardian must make. For example, Miss Granger, your parents weren't consulted about your medical treatment when you were petrified in second year."

"So he might have asserted some form of magical guardianship over me in order to make decisions about my life?" Jasmine asked.

"That is one possibility," Minerva answered. "I'm not sure, though, where I'd look to find out." Minerva McGonagall then adopted a much softer expression. "Now, I think I invited you here to talk about the Potter family and your possible inheritance, yes? Well, I obviously don't have all the information, and some of what I think I know may be wrong. I'm relying in part on what I heard in passing from your parents and grandparents over the years."

"The first thing to know is that your family was once considered an 'Ancient and Noble' family. This designation is reserved for the oldest and most powerful families in magical society. The Potters lost the title in the wake of the Grindelwald war because so much of their resources were destroyed. The family was no less old, of course, but they lost a lot of money and power. Your family's enemies took advantage of that. Fortunately your family didn't lose their hereditary seat on the Wizengamot, but that might have been partially because of your grandfather's marriage to Dorea Black. The Black family today remains 'Ancient and Noble,' by the way. I don't know what happened to that seat — if it's still available to you, if it was transferred to someone else, or what. I also don't know if or how the 'Ancient and Noble' status can be regained."

Minerva then turned in her seat, bent over, and picked up an average-looking bookbag. "This," she said, "is a collection of books that all deal with the Potter family in some fashion. Some are about specific Potter individuals while others are general histories that I think include important information about Potters." Hermione's eyes flashed in excitement at the prospect of so much new knowledge — and knowledge about her favorite person, too!

"Wow," Jasmine said as she accepted the bag. She didn't miss the unconscious little grasping motions that Hermione's hands were making. "Where did all of this come from?"

"Another good question, Miss Potter. They _used_ to be in the library."

"Used to be?" Hermione asked with a dangerous edge in her voice. Had her precious library been _violated?_

"Yes. I went looking for them, surprised that neither of you had ever thought to check them out, but I discovered that they were all missing. After a bit of hunting, I found that they had been placed in a storage room used for duplicates and overflow books."

"Why would they have been put there? And by whom?" Jasmine asked

"I honestly don't know," McGonagall said, shaking her head. "I don't even know how long they've been there."

Neither girl had anything to say to that. One more thing to put on their list of suspicious incidents.

"With regards to your likely inheritance," continued Minerva, "I have less information. Even after the Grindelwald war, the Potters had a fair amount of money, properties, and investments. They weren't destitute, though they weren't as rich and powerful as they had been. However, that was sixty years ago, and I don't know what happened to it all. Your grandfather Charlus was, as far as I know, a shrewd businessman. With Dorea by his side, I would have expected him to grow the Potter fortune."

"Your father James... well, I have no idea what sort of businessman he was or might have become. He died too young. I don't know how much he started with when he became head of the family, and I couldn't tell you how much was left when he died. However, everything that was left should have been set aside for you, Miss Potter."

"So, that's what's in my trust vault?" Jasmine asked.

"Miss Potter, a trust vault is exactly that — a _trust_ ," explained Minerva. "Those funds are made available to you for your schooling while you are growing up. A trust isn't meant to be a person's full inheritance. In fact, it's something you would have had available to you even if your parents were alive. It's a way for you to be somewhat financially independent and gives you a chance to demonstrate how responsible you are with your family's money while you are attending school. There should be at least one standard family vault, however it wouldn't be available to you until you reach your majority."

"There's an awful lot of uncertainty in all this," Jasmine said morosely.

"Indeed, Miss Potter. I'm afraid that the only place you're likely to get any certainty is Gringotts — and even then, I'm not sure. The goblins are sticklers for rules and regulations. I don't know what rules might limit what they can and cannot tell you."

"Well," said Hermione, trying to look hopeful, "we've got a place to start. We've got books to read and maybe a trip to Gringotts to plan."

"If you two intend to visit Gringotts," Minerva said with a stern look, "be certain to talk to me first. I'd like to try to schedule it for a time when the headmaster is out of the castle and hopefully occupied for the day. The less he knows, the better."

Hermione suddenly remembered something important. "Oh, Professor, have you by any chance seen a copy of the tournament rules? Jasmine asked Professor Dumbledore for a copy, but he never got back to her. I doubt that asking again would do any good, at least given what we are learning now. Do you have any ideas of where we could find it?"

Minerva thought about that for a moment before answering, "To be perfectly honest, I haven't seen a copy and I probably should have — not just as a member of staff, but as the Head of House for one of the champions. I'll start looking around."

"Thank you for all this information, Professor..." Jasmine said as she started to stand, but she was interrupted before she could finish.

"I need to ask you two a question. Forgive me if this sounds a bit too forward, but it's important. Tell me honestly: how serious are the two of you?"

Jasmine and Hermione looked at each other for a moment, both biting their bottom lips and feeling a bit bewildered at the question. Then Jasmine said as they both turned back to their professor, "To be honest, Professor, that's a hard question to answer. I mean, we've only just started. It sounds strange to say that we're serious already." She bit her bottom lip again as Hermione took up the line of thought. "At the same time, though, I can't deny that it _feels_ serious, and I'm sure Jasmine would agree."

The auburn-haired witch nodded her head vigorously, then Hermione continued, "Maybe it just sounds like immature teens in their first relationship, but I'd like to think it has more to do with how close we've been for the past three years. I think we're both committed to making this work because of how right it feels and because, quite frankly, I can't imagine being without her." Hermione was smiling at Jasmine when she said this last, and the other witch returned that smile, saying, "I feel the same way."

Nodding, their transfiguration professor said, "Good, I'm glad to hear all of that — both that you're serious and that you're cautious, given that this is your first relationship. Knowing that, I have something for the two of you."

Reaching into her desk drawer, Minerva pulled out a large, well-worn book with black leather binding. Handing it directly to Hermione, she said, "This is a special book. Few copies were ever printed — in fact, I don't think I've ever seen another copy, though that's not surprising. However many there are left, they are all probably well-hidden in private collections."

Taking the book gingerly into her hands, Hermione read the title: _The Power of Love: Love is Never Dangerous,_ by D. Tempest Pureheart. She turned back to her professor with a questioning look in her eye.

"This was written in the early 20th century to defend, ah, 'alternative' relationships," explained Minerva. "It covers same-sex, polygamous, and polyamorous relationships. Since it was written by a witch, it deals almost entirely with the concerns and relationships of witches. There may be a similar book with wizards in mind, but I've never seen one. Ms. Pureheart refutes the common, traditionalist arguments against such relationships, explains what's good and valuable about them, and finally describes how such relationships can affect or interact with magic — in particular, magical rites and rituals."

Now both girls were looking at the book with awe and reverence. Neither had been able to find anything of value on this topic in the Hogwarts library. "Thank you, Professor McGonagall," Hermione said, unable to tear her eyes away from the heavy tome. "I promise I'll get it back to you as soon—"

"No," Minerva interrupted while holding up a hand. "It's yours. I am gifting it to you, since you have need of it whereas I do not. It makes no sense for me to allow it to go to waste, buried in an old trunk. Use it well, but I implore you to keep it secret. This book was never officially banned, but I think that's only because the Ministry never wanted to be seen admitting that such behaviors or relationships exist in the first place. Instead, it is considered inappropriate to have a copy, especially for witches as young as you. If it were discovered in your possession, it would probably be confiscated then 'accidentally' destroyed. So keep it safe."

Neither girl knew what to say. They had pretty much given up hope at finding written material on this topic — it seemed to be so taboo in magical society that no one was willing to write about it, not even for the purpose of criticizing it. Now, though, they had been gifted what seemed like a priceless treasure: a rare book that not only talked about relationships like theirs, but explained how such relationships could interact with magic. And rituals! That was a highly restricted subject that wasn't even taught in Hogwarts, but here was a professor simply handing information over.

Tears of gratitude shone in both witches' eyes when they thanked their Transfiguration professor and left. Smiling sadly, Minerva McGonagall allowed herself to turn back once again to memories she had thought were long buried and forgotten. She hadn't wanted to ever be reminded of that pain, but she wasn't going to be able to help these two young witches if she continued to ignore her own past.

It surprised her that she was opening up so much to them — she was usually far more reserved around her students, maintaining a strictly professional relationship and not getting personally involved. That attitude couldn't continue, though, because she owed it to them to help them with this. She owed it to someone else, too.

Walking slowly to her private bedroom, she opened a battered trunk and dug around a bit to pull out a magically sealed box. After softly reciting the password, she opened it and pulled out an old, worn photo album. On it was a name: _Bonnie Freya Roy_. Sitting down on the edge of her tartan-covered bed, she gently opened the book to the first page of pictures and began to silently weep.

* * *

 **Sunday, December 13, 1994, Late Night.**

Hermione Granger couldn't sleep. She'd been lying in bed for hours, but sleep stubbornly would not come. As she lay there in bed, she listened to the soft sounds of girls sleeping around her — and of one girl in particular. After more than three years, she had learned to easily pick out the sounds of Jasmine Potter sleeping. She could always tell, without ever having to think about it, when Jasmine was sleeping soundly, when she was having a nightmare, and when she was simply lying awake.

Jasmine was the reason _she_ was the one currently lying awake. She'd been experiencing stronger and stronger reactions to Jasmine, and they didn't make sense. Hermione _hated_ it when things didn't make sense. Normally when something didn't make sense, she'd head to the library, grab twenty or thirty books, and research it to death. In this case, though, she had no idea where she'd begin to do research. She wasn't even confident that she understood the problem.

 _On the one hand,_ she considered, _I've started kissing and even snogging Jasmine. I've been thinking more and more how pretty she is. While looking at her or thinking about her, my heart starts racing, and my mouth goes dry. To cap it all off, earlier today thoughts about her in her knickers came to me out of_ _ **nowhere**_ _, making me so embarrassed and excited that I couldn't think straight. And if that weren't bad enough, Jasmine had the gall to get me to think about her_ _ **not**_ _wearing any knickers. She did that on purpose, just to watch me squirm — I know she did!_

 _On the other hand,_ Hermione continued to muse, _Jasmine and I are friends. We're best friends, in fact. We do everything possible together. I've seen her when she's happy. I've seen her when she's moody and depressed. I've seen her when she hasn't slept and has horrible circles under her eyes. I've held her when she's sick and hocking up bogies. I've seen her in her knickers on an almost daily basis. I've seen her without her knickers. I've seen her naked in the shower many times._

Hermione sat up at this point, hoping that a vertical position might be conducive to problem-solving. _Over the past three years, we've been friends, roommates, partners, and equals. We're so in sync with each other that most of the time we don't even need to speak when working together. It's a relationship that hasn't had a single romantic or erotic element whatsoever._

And that aspect of the relationship hadn't stopped, she realized. _Earlier, when we changed clothes for bed, it was perfectly normal. I was completely indifferent to her state of dress. But a few hours earlier, the idea of her not wearing knickers produced so many naughty thoughts that I couldn't stop blushing!_ As if to prove her point, she could feel a blush start again, accompanied by a warm feeling in her lower abdomen.

 _OK, I get it, I'm not straight. Not entirely, anyway._ She buried her face in her hands as she sighed in resignation. _I fancy Jasmine. I want to kiss Jasmine. I want to... do things with Jasmine._ The warm feeling started spreading at this point. _But how can I pursue that sort of thing with my best friend? I can't do all the things friends casually do without even noticing and explore a romantic, physical relationship with her at the same time, can I? If we regularly change clothes in front of each other, thoughts of her in her knickers won't be exciting; if I get excited thinking about her in her knickers, we won't be able to change or shower casually in front of each other._

 _I don't understand how having both could be possible, but I don't want to have to choose!_ Flopping back on the bed, Hermione groaned in frustration. _Why do relationships have to be so complicated? Isn't there a book where I can get all the answers?_

Casting _Tempus_ , she saw that a grand total of ten minutes had passed since the last time she looked, and she was no closer to either answers or sleep. It was going to be a long, long night.


	7. Bindings and Separations

**A/N:** A reviewer expressed concerns last chapter about the prospect of common and unwanted cliches like overly-helpful goblins, Dumbledore stealing Potter funds, etc. I can assure everyone that such fears will prove unfounded. It may at times look like things are heading down such well-worn paths, but they won't be. Or not quite. Dumbledore is definitely not stealing anything, though he's not exactly telling everyone everything (which is canon). Goblins will be helpful, but not overly so and not for reasons I expect anyone to guess. If anyone worries about certain cliches ruining the story, feel free to ask and I'll answer as best I can.

 **Recommendation:** This chapter's recommended fic is "Delenda Est" by Lord Silvere. It is, hands down, the best Harry/Bellatrix story available — it's not just believable how they are brought together, it's a very believable relationship as it develops, too. It's got politics, combat, and the most entertaining depiction of Bellatrix I have ever seen. There's even a sequel, though it hasn't progressed very far as of this writing.

* * *

 **Chapter 07 - Bindings and Separations**

 **Monday, December 14, 1994, Early Morning.**

With a yawn, Hermione Granger closed the twentieth library book she'd looked at so far that morning. She'd hardly gotten any sleep the previous night because her mind kept going over and over the same puzzle: how could she pursue a physical romance with someone she already had such a good, platonic friendship with? How could she find something exciting and erotic one minute, but ignore or dismiss it as irrelevant the next?

At some point in the early morning hours it occurred to her that maybe her new book would have the answers she needed. It had, after all, been written with witches like her and Jasmine in mind. _Maybe this was a problem unique to witch/witch relations?_ she wondered. It was times like this that Hermione almost lamented her lack of social experience — people were so much more complicated than books!

Hermione could see, even after a little bit of reading, that D. Tempest Pureheart had been an incredible witch with a keen mind and sharp wit. She might just be Hermione's next hero, but regrettably a quick skim of the book didn't turn up what she needed. It was excruciatingly difficult to not get sidetracked by some of the wonderful material, but she had to force herself to hide it in her trunk again.

That was what had brought her to the library early on a Monday. She had in fact been waiting outside for it to open at 6AM, much to the annoyance of Madam Pince. Once she entered, though, she realized that she didn't really know where to start — she didn't have a specific magical topic to research. So she decided to start with something that might only be barely related, but would at least be straightforward: marriage.

So far, that had been a bust. The library had several shelves of books on marriage laws, marriage traditions, marriage vows, marriage bonds, and the like, but none of that touched on her own problems. The material on marriage bonds at least looked interesting, so she spent a bit of extra time reading that.

 _In a properly performed magical marriage ritual, the marriage celebrant uses his or her own magic to draw together and create a bond between the magics of the wizard and witch. Over time, this bond will draw the couple closer together in all ways. It produces many positive psychological, emotional, physical, and of course magical effects. The more compatible a wizard and witch are, the stronger their bond will be to start with, and the stronger it will grow over time._

 _Of course, even after many decades of marriage, a marriage bond is never as strong as the naturally occurring soul bond. Although little is known about soul bonds, except of course to those couples privileged enough to be part of one, they are believed to be a creation of Magic itself to help a couple achieve some destiny, and Magic would never set a couple on any path without providing them with the tools and power necessary to achieve their goals. The marriage bond, which was created to imitate a soul bond, is also designed to provide a couple with the psychological and emotional tools necessary to achieve a successful marriage. ..._

 _While the marriage ritual designates the wizard's magic as dominating and controlling the bond, it is possible in cases of especially weak-willed wizards and strong-willed witches that the witch's magic eventually assumes the dominant role. Few believe that a bond of true equals can exist because, as everyone knows, true equality is not a natural state. The magically stronger will always dominate and control: that is the natural order of things in society, in family, and in marriage. Attempts by a couple to create unnatural equality in their bond will necessarily weaken both the bond and the marriage, to the detriment of all. ..._

 _Whether or not souls are also bound together during the creation of a magical marriage bond is a matter of some debate, but most believe that our magic is tied to our souls and thus also believe that as our magic is bound with another's, so also is our soul bound with another's. This one reason is why the rare but naturally occurring bond between a wizard and a witch is traditionally called a "soul bond." The other, of course, is the fact that knowledge and understanding of that bond is believed to be locked into the souls of the couples who are involved, thus preventing others from speaking of it openly._

She made a note to do further research on magical bonds later, just for some light reading, but now she was stymied. For a few seconds she considered asking Madam Pince if there were any other books by D. Tempest Pureheart, but she thought better of it. She knew she shouldn't let her excitement lead her into making hasty mistakes. _Besides, I got enough funny looks when I asked about books on marriage — as if the librarian thought_ _ **I**_ _were looking to get married soon myself! Honestly!_

 _Ah, well, I'm only part way through the library's resources on marriage anyway. I'd better get to breakfast before Jasmine starts to worry — I'll come back during the break after Herbology in a couple of hours and pick up where I left off..._

* * *

 **Monday, December 14, 1994, Late Morning.**

"Look, up in the sky! It's a bird!"

And, indeed, it was a bird — a brightly colored bird that wouldn't normally be caught dead in Scotland even in the middle of the (depressingly short) summer, let alone winter. What made its sudden presence more strange was the fact that it clearly had a letter tied to its leg, but post typically arrived during breakfast, not in the middle of the day while students walked between classes — even if they were walking outside.

Fear and happiness warred in Jasmine Potter at the sight. She thought she knew what the presence of such a bird meant: a message from Sirius Black. She was of course excited at the prospect of hearing from her godfather, but she was afraid that such a colorful and attention-grabbing means of communication would cause him to be caught.

"Jasmine," came a hiss from beside her, "what does he think he's doing, sending letters with a bird like that?"

"I know, Hermione, but there's nothing I can do about it, now is there?" Hoping to get the exchange over with as quickly as possible, Jasmine held out her arm to provide the tropical bird a place to perch and give up its burden. When it landed, she could see how bedraggled and put out the poor thing was. "There's a cozy owlery for you to rest in, if you want. I won't ask you to wait for a reply."

The bird gave a clearly offended look, as if it were insulted that anyone would think that it would hang around here for a second longer than absolutely necessary. With a couple of quick beats of its wings it was airborne again, and within a few seconds it was already a distant speck in the grey Scottish sky.

Jasmine hardly paid any attention, though, because she was far too interested in seeing what her godfather had to say.

"Hey, scarhead, is that letter another guy turning down a marriage contract with you?" If the smug, arrogant voice weren't so recognizable, the insults certainly would be. _Malfoy needs to get someone new to write his material,_ Jasmine thought sourly to herself. _But at least the Slytherins came out of the castle long enough after us that they didn't see the bird delivering this._

"I'm sorry, Mr. Malfoy, but I cannot divulge confidential business correspondence to you," Jasmine explained in a haughty voice. "Someday, when you grow up, maybe you'll be permitted a voice in how your family's meager holdings are managed. If such a time comes, perhaps then you'll understand what I'm talking about. Until then, however, perhaps you should concentrate on those few, simple subjects you can handle."

Turning away from the sputtering Slytherin, Jasmine continued down the path to Hagrid's hut where their Care of Magical Creatures class was being held. The subject was still Blast-Ended Skrewts, and everyone was counting the days until some student or other was killed by Hagrid's latest pets.

Sirius' letter would have to wait until later.

* * *

 **Monday, December 14, 1994, Lunch.**

Normally, watching Malfoy being chased by a Blast-Ended Skrewt while his trousers were on fire would produce plenty of lunchtime conversations and laughter. Today, however, the girls had a letter from Sirius Black to read, and that took precedence. Unfortunately, their growing friendship with Neville and Ginny threatened to interfere: unlike Ron, neither of them had been informed about Sirius' innocence. That was a problem that would have to be rectified.

"Sorry, but this is a secret that we've had for a while." Hermione looked to Jasmine for guidance — it was her godfather, after all. She should be the one to decide what to do.

"This doesn't only involve us, it involves the safety of someone else — life and death, as a matter of fact. And no, I'm not exaggerating." Jasmine stopped to think hard for a moment. "To be quite honest, I'm not comfortable saying anything at all without getting their permission first. It's their life that's potentially on the line."

Ginny and Neville looked at each other with somber expressions. Clearly, when it came to Hermione and Jasmine, there were secrets and then there were Secrets. They didn't really have any choice but to agree, so they left the two witches alone during lunch so they could have some privacy to read whatever had them so agitated.

Huddling close together at the end of the Gryffindor table, Hermione and Jasmine read the latest letter from Sirius...

Hey, Kitten!

Great job, kiddo! I'm so proud of you for beating that dragon. Not even James would have thought of trying to out-fly a Hungarian Horntail, though Lily would have hexed him into next week if he'd even suggested it. I probably would have done the same to you myself, if I had been there, so it's a good thing I wasn't.

Not that that will last much longer. Being so far away from you has been a lot tougher than I imagined it would be, but knowing that you're in danger in that blasted tournament has me at my wits end. What was Dumbledore thinking, forcing you to participate? I know that I can't be a lot of help while I'm still wanted by so many people, but I can't be any help at all if I'm not close by.

So lock up the liquor and hide the women, 'cuz Padfoot is comin' back to town! Keep an eye out for me, sweetie, you never know if I'll be around the next corner.

Love,

Uncle Paddy

"Oh, no," moaned Hermione. "This is not good. This is **so** not good."

Jasmine couldn't bring herself to disagree, though she wished she could. She never let on how much she missed Sirius... or maybe it was just the _idea_ of Sirius. She hardly knew Sirius the person at all, but the idea of a living connection to her parents — someone who might value her for herself — was just too precious to give up.

For a few, blissful minutes last year, she actually believed that someone would take her away from the Dursleys. It had been seemed like the fulfillment of a dream that the poor orphan girl had been having for as long as she could remember, but a combination of bad circumstances and a petty potions professor conspired to snatch the dream from her before she could fully grasp it.

She wanted Sirius safe. She also wanted Sirius back. She wasn't certain, though, which she should focus on.

* * *

 **Tuesday, December 15, 1994, Late Morning.**

For the fourth time in three minutes, Jasmine checked her watch. "Where is she?"

"I don't know," answered Neville, "but it's really unlike her to cut things so close. If she doesn't get here in the next minute, she'll be late, and Professor McGonagall won't go easy on her."

Just as he finished saying that, Hermione came rushing into the Transfiguration classroom. Almost completely out of breath, she sat at her usual table with Jasmine and Neville before hurriedly pulling out her book, parchment, and quill. "Where were you?" Jasmine asked. "I was getting really worried."

Hermione blushed and flashed her a wide smile, but before she could answer, Professor McGonagall stood up in front of the class and called for quiet. She then began her lesson on animate to inanimate transfiguration and the differences from inanimate to animate transfiguration. Jasmine barely listened, though, because she was too busy thinking about Hermione, where she had been, and what would cause her to keep smiling like that through the whole class.

At the end of the lesson, she was finally able to resume her interrogation. "Not here," Hermione insisted, "wait until we're alone." So Hermione, accompanied by Jasmine and Neville, took their time walking to the Great Hall for lunch, letting everyone else get there well ahead of them.

"So?" Jasmine asked again.

"I got a date to the Yule Ball! Somebody asked me! Somebody actually asked me!" It was clear that Hermione was ready to explode with excitement. She was practically bouncing up and down on the balls of her feet, something she normally only did at the prospect of visiting a new book store.

"Who?" asked Jasmine.

"Oh, you'll never guess, not in a million years!" Apparently deciding not to even let them try, she blurted, "It's Viktor Krum!"

This news rendered her two friends speechless.

"Yes, I know, I never would have expected it myself," Hermione went on. "Isn't it amazing? I've noticed that he's been spending time in the library, usually when I'm there. Turns out, he was deliberately watching me, hoping to catch me alone so he could talk to me. He only worked up the courage today during my morning break. His English isn't very good, so he stumbled through his invitation, but it was still really sweet. He's very polite and respectful, I think we'll have a wonderful time. Oh, I can't wait, it's going to be so much fun. Me, on a date with Viktor Krum! An international celebrity!"

The whole time that Hermione was rambling and Neville was congratulating her, Jasmine silently stared straight ahead. She didn't say anything. She couldn't even think anything.

"Jasmine?" Hermione asked, once she noticed that the third member of their group was being quiet. "Is something wrong?"

"No, Hermione, of course not," she answered quickly. _What is the matter with me? Why can't I be happy for her? I knew she'd be going to the ball — I_ _ **want**_ _her to go. Of course someone was going to ask her, I'm not the only person in the school to notice how good-looking she is. So why do I suddenly want to throttle Viktor Krum, burn the body, and dump the ashes in the lake?_ "I'm happy for you, I really am. I'm sure he'll show you a wonderful time at the ball."

This seemed to satisfy Hermione, who instantly resumed her happy babbling, though Neville gave Jasmine a curious look. "Oh, I know, and guess what else is great? Since Viktor is a champion, I'll be able to sit with you at the champions' table! But that means that I'll also have to join the opening dance, so I'll have to practice my dancing even harder. You'll help me, won't you Neville? Of course you will, thanks. I'm going to have so much to do to get ready. I'll definitely need..."

The other two had stopped paying close attention by this point, not entirely sure that this was really Hermione Granger anymore. "Maybe we should check for polyjuice," suggested Neville in a whisper. "Hermione would never go on and on about dresses and makeup like that." Jasmine nodded in agreement, but she wasn't listening closely to him, either. She was too preoccupied with thoughts about Viktor Krum, standing in front of her, gasping for breath because her hands were tightly wrapped around his throat.

* * *

 **Tuesday, December 15, 1994, Late Evening.**

Part-way through the evening dancing lesson, Neville stopped and brought Hermione back to the other two girls. "All right," he announced, "I think that Hermione and I have done this step enough with each other that we have a fair idea of what we're doing. We still need more practice, but we're doing well enough to try it with you two," he said, gesturing to Ginny and Jasmine.

Holding out his hand to Jasmine, he continued, "As I said before, I'll focus on dancing with you because we'll have to be good together when we help open the ball." Pulling her to the middle of the room, he started explaining how he wanted her to set her feet and then how they would be moving for the first dance. While he was doing this, Hermione was giving the same explanation to Ginny on the other side of the dancing area.

After moving around in vaguely dance-like fashion, and with a nearly tolerable amount of toe-mashing, Neville decided to risk distracting Jasmine by asking a question that had been bothering him most of the day. "Jasmine, are you OK?"

"What? Yeah, fine."

"Now we'll start moving left. No, my left. **Other** left. You've been acting a bit odd since lunch. Or maybe it was Transfiguration, when Hermione announced her date with Krum. **Ow!** "

"Sorry."

"S'ok, it was that foot's turn. So, are you fighting with Hermione?" Neville asked.

"Of course not!" Jasmine insisted.

"Well, that's good. Now, let's start moving gradually towards the back. So, is the problem Krum? **Ow!** "

"Sorry."

"Maybe we should sit down for a bit," Neville suggested.

"Sorry."

"No, it's OK, I'm just... tired. Been a long day."

"Oh, good. Me, too," Jasmine replied.

Neville let Jasmine walk ahead of him so she wouldn't see him limp. On both legs. She was so distracted now, though, that it probably wouldn't have mattered.

"Are you going to tell me what's wrong," he asked as they sat down and watched the other two practice.

"No. Maybe. Oh, I don't even know what's wrong. I just... I don't understand what I'm feeling and it's really bothering me."

Neville sighed as he saw Ginny and Hermione start to walk over to them. "Maybe we should continue this when we're alone. Sometimes talking about something can help you understand it better because you have to put your feelings into words."

Jasmine looked over at him, and for the first time since early that morning, her frown was replaced with a soft smile. "Yeah, you might be right. Thanks, Neville. We'll do that."

The rest of the evening proceeded with considerably less annoyance radiating off of Jasmine, though everyone could see that something was still bothering her. Well, Ginny and Neville could see it; Hermione continued to be distracted by thoughts about her coming Yule Ball date.

Because Neville was still limping a bit at the end, Jasmine offered to walk with him while the other two went on ahead. It wasn't entirely a ruse, because his feet really did still hurt; but it also provided a convenient way to talk without an audience. It further allowed them to talk while walking, and Neville knew that Jasmine thought and planned best while in motion. She was someone who always had to be doing and acting, not simply sitting around pondering. It was one of the areas where she was the exact opposite of Hermione, who had to plan, come up with possible problems, plan contingencies for all those problems, then revise the entire thing just to be sure — and only then would consent to get up and start moving.

"So, Jasmine," Neville prompted in the face of the girl's silence, "What's going on?"

"Like I said, I'm not sure, but I'm incredibly upset and distracted. I just don't know why."

"What's distracting you?" he asked.

"Thoughts of Krum," Jasmine said. "I keep imagining strangling him. Or setting him on fire. Feeding him to a basilisk has been a fun fantasy. Then there's Devil's Snare, but he might know how to escape that. Say, are there any plants in the greenhouses that would kill him in an especially painful and messy way?"

Neville's eyes grew larger and larger while listening to Jasmine recite the litany of deaths she fantasized about arranging for Viktor Krum. "I, uh, didn't realize that you were quite so competitive with the other champions..."

"What? No, it's nothing like that," responded Jasmine quickly. "I'd like to win, but I don't want to chop him into little bits and feed them to Fluffy just because he's competing against me. All this started only today, for some reason."

"Today? You mean, like this morning? Before lunch?" Neville asked, comprehension dawning on him.

"Yeah. And now, every time Hermione mentions the name 'Krum,' I want to rip off his arm and beat him to death with the wet end."

Neville started looking a bit green. Given how often Hermione had been mentioning her date, that was a lot of beatings. Neville had seen Jasmine angry before, but he'd never seen her quite so blunt about wanting to hurt someone. It couldn't possibly be healthy. "Jasmine, I think you might be jealous of Krum," he suggested tentatively.

Jasmine shook her head. "I thought about that, but why would I be jealous?" Jasmine asked. "Hermione's with me, and the date with Krum isn't real. I knew she would get a date to the ball. I _want_ her to have a date to the ball — if she didn't, I wouldn't be able to enjoy it myself."

"Well, _you_ know that the date isn't supposed to be real, but are you sure _Krum_ knows that? Does _he_ know that they are only going as friends? I don't remember Hermione mentioning that she talked to him about that." Neville paused for a moment, looking back on his friend's behavior over the course of the day. "In fact, Hermione hasn't been behaving like it's a fake date. She's been acting like it's real. Seems odd, now that I think about it."

Jasmine frowned at this. Finally, she said reluctantly, "You might be right. I'm not exactly used to having anything to be jealous about, so it's hard to know for sure what I'm feeling; but it sounds about right. I should probably talk with her."

"Good idea," Neville said as they approached the entrance to the Gryffindor common room. "I'll leave you to it, then. G'night!" he added before they went to their separate dorms. Once Jasmine got to her room, though, she saw that the curtains around Hermione's bed were already closed. Assuming she was asleep, Jasmine chose to wait until the next morning to talk to her.

* * *

Hermione was not, in fact, asleep yet. During the dancing lesson, Hermione had reached a startling and embarrassing realization: she had no dress for the ball. Their school list in August had included dress robes, but she had been certain that she wouldn't go to whatever silly event they were needed for so chose not to spend the money. Her parents had argued quite strongly that she should do it anyway, and that it would be better to have the dress and not need it than to need the dress and not have it, but Hermione had refused to listen.

Unfortunately, she didn't think that she had brought enough money to buy a dress locally, so she'd have to write to her parents and apologize in order to ask for them to send cash. She'd be eating more than a little bit of crow.

On top of that, she was faced with having to explain _why_ she needed the dress, which meant explaining that she had a date. _This is going to be so embarrassing_ , Hermione thought. _After all the arguments I had with mum about getting an updated version of 'The Talk' despite not having any intentions to start dating, and how I am way too committed to school to care anything about boys or romance. I'm not sure I'll ever live down having to admit that I have a date to a ball — not even when we're only going as friends._ Sometimes she couldn't tell whether having parents who treated her like an adult was more helpful or more annoying, especially when explaining sexual development and such.

Maybe she could avoid talking about the date part. _They don't need to know that I have a date, do they? They don't even need to know that it's a ball — I can just tell them that it's a formal affair, and I need to go... because of Jasmine! Yes, that's it! That even gives me a good excuse for why I'm going, since they already know that she's my best friend and was entered into a tournament against her will. A little sympathy will surely reduce their desire to gloat over having told me that I should get a dress, too. Hah, perfect!_

* * *

 **Wednesday, December 16, 1994, Early Morning.**

Waking slowly, Jasmine was reminded of the problems she had had the previous day and vowed to find time to talk to Hermione so they could resolve any misunderstandings. She hated the feelings she'd experienced the previous day and had no idea how to process them. She just wanted to be rid of them and was convinced that talking to Hermione was the best way to achieve that. _Finding the time will be tough, though_ , she thought. _Wednesdays are pretty busy for us._

Climbing out from behind her bed curtains, she was assaulted by one of the most annoying sounds she'd ever had the misfortune of hearing: giggling and squeeing teen girls. Even though she was a teen girl herself, she always hated those high-pitched sounds. Whenever Lavender and Parvati got started, Jasmine always made it a point to get out of the dorm as fast as possible. Unfortunately, when she heard the subject of their squeals, she was stopped dead in her tracks.

"Krum is so handsome and dreamy, I can't believe he'll be here at Hogwarts all year."

"Oh, I know, and he's so mature, too — not like all the other _boys_. I'll bet he'll be gallant with his date."

"So you think the rumors are true and he has a date now?"

"Oh, absolutely! Padma told me that Fay told her that she heard from Mandy that she overheard Daphne tell Tracey that she heard from Flora and Hestia who were told by Natalie that she overheard Krum ask someone in the library. But she didn't get a chance to see who it was."

"Squeeeee! That's so romantic!"

All during the rather confusing conversation, Jasmine kept getting angrier and angrier. She could barely think straight, she was so furious. _Romantic, huh? Krum thinks he can get away with being romantic with my Hermione, huh?_ When she looked over in the direction of Hermione's bed, she saw a smug, happy look on her face. _Is she... is she_ _ **happy**_ _about this? Did she_ _ **enjoy**_ _being romanced by that Bulgarian gorilla?_ With that, the dam broke, and all thoughts of having a calm, mature conversation with her girlfriend went right out the window.

" **Romantic** ," Jasmine half-growled and half-shouted. "What's so **romantic** about asking a person out on a date in a **library** of all places?" She ruthlessly shoved aside the knowledge that Hermione loved libraries and would see them as excellent locations for a bit of romance.

Everyone else in the dorm stopped and stared in shock. Jasmine only raised her voice like this when she was extremely agitated, and this seemed to come out of nowhere. For no reason anyone could discern, Jasmine had gone from asleep to murderous in a matter of seconds.

"And why are you fawning all over that gorilla, anyway? What's so special about him? He chases little gold balls for a living. What kind of career is that?" The fact that Jasmine was a seeker, too, didn't seem to occur to the ranting witch.

"He can barely speak English. Who knows if he's any more articulate in Bulgarian? Maybe there are good reasons why he barely opens his mouth and spends most of his time just scowling at everyone. With that forehead and the single eyebrow, I have to wonder about his recent heritage, too."

The other three girls just gaped open-mouthed at this unexpected vitriol. Lavender and Parvati were curious about what prompted it, but they didn't say anything lest Jasmine's anger be directed at them instead. Hermione, she saw, was gaping as well, but there was also a sheen in her eyes and a look of... sadness? Hurt? Betrayal? Jasmine wasn't sure, too confused by the battle between rage and regret (and triumph?) she herself was experiencing.

Rather than continue, Jasmine simply grabbed her clothes and stomped off to the showers. When she exited later, the dorm was empty. She'd be walking down to breakfast alone, it seemed. _Fine!_ _I don't need them anyway!_

When she arrived in the Great Hall, she found Hermione sitting with Lavender and Parvati rather than with Neville and Ginny. When she joined the latter two, she had no explanation to offer for Hermione's behavior or her own bad mood. The gossip queens would soon spread the story across the school, but few paid it much attention.

This pattern repeated throughout the day. In double Charms that morning and double Runes in the afternoon, Hermione sat with anyone other than Jasmine — the first time anyone had seen that happen since early in first year. During lunch and dinner, Hermione once again sat with other girls while avoiding her best friend. When she came to the dancing lesson that evening, she made a point of formally greeting Neville and Ginny while ignoring Jasmine. She didn't speak a single word to the Girl Who Lived the entire time. Yet she did look at her when Jasmine wasn't watching, the war between hurt and anger written on her face for anyone who cared to notice.

It was a long, **long** day.


	8. Green Eyed Monster

**A/N:** This is important, so I'm pointing it out in case anyone missed it. The book Hermione was reading in the last chapter says there are "effects" associated with soul bonds, including "magical effects." This will include an increase in power, but don't start thinking that it's a simple "soul bond = super witches" situation. Magic is at least partially sentient and creates soul bonds so that a couple can achieve some destiny. But what's the point of being given a task without also being given the tools you need? That would be like knowing that your student is going to have to fight a powerful, skilled Dark Lord but refusing to give them special training. :)

So power grows as the bond develops, but it comes from Magic, not the bond (where else would magical power ultimately come from, anyway?). Being able to properly control and channel the power can be attributed to the emotional and psychological effects of the bond, but not the power itself. And yes, while Jasmine still has the canon prophecy/destiny, there is yet more in store for Jasmine and Hermione as a couple, so they'll definitely need the help. Oh, and "power" isn't only about fighting. Just sayin'...

 **Recommendation:** This chapter's recommended fic is "A Different Halloween" by robst. I doubt there's a single H/Hr fan who isn't already familiar with robst's stories, but I wanted to single this out as one of his best. Lily Potter and Emma Granger run into each other on Halloween, 1981, and Hermione immediately gloms onto Harry, refusing to let go. History is changed and Hermione has never been more adorable.

* * *

 **Chapter 08 - Green Eyed Monster**

 **Thursday, December 17, 1994, Morning.**

For the second day in a row, it looked like Jasmine and Hermione were avoiding each other. As on Wednesday, Jasmine walked to breakfast alone while Hermione sat with other girls. During Transfiguration, Hermione partnered with others while ignoring Jasmine, just as she had during Charms and Runes the previous day. By this point, the tension between the two Gryffindors was palpable and obvious to everyone. Professor McGonagall was going to hold them back after class anyway, and when she did so she asked, "Is everything alright between you two? I sense some tension."

"We're fine," Hermione answered quickly. Jasmine just nodded stiffly.

Minerva raised an eyebrow at that, not believing them but also not wanting to probe too deeply into a personal matter. "Very well, if you're sure. I wanted to let you know that I need to make a change in our meeting this weekend. Instead of Sunday afternoon, like before, I'll need to meet you two Sunday morning. Will that be acceptable?"

Both girls agreed and left quickly when they were dismissed. Minerva was at a loss to understand what could have happened between the two — they hadn't been this estranged even last year during the broomstick incident. She could only hope that they found a way to resolve the problem sooner rather than later.

* * *

 **Thursday, December 17, 1994, Afternoon.**

Draco Malfoy decided that lunch would be a good time to add his two knuts to the situation. Somewhere along the way he had found out that the girls seemed to be upset with each other, and he thought it would be an excellent idea to fan the flames and hopefully make matters worse.

Calling out to Jasmine as she walked alone into the Great Hall, Malfoy said, "Hey, scarhead! Did you finally see sense and dump that buck-toothed mudblood as a friend? I know you can't do anything to make up for your own deficient blood status, but at least you aren't letting that mudblood drag you down any further."

Sitting not far away at the Slytherin table, Viktor Krum couldn't help but overhear. Contrary to popular opinion, he was not a thick-headed jock. He didn't talk much, but it wasn't due to poor language skills or low intelligence — it was because he'd been taught at an early age that it's better to watch and observe than to speak out and say the wrong thing. It was a perfectly Slytherin attitude but contrasted sharply with the behavior of many actual Slytherins — Draco Malfoy in particular.

Having spent a lot of time over the past month and a half in Hogwarts, watching people and listening to what they had to say, he felt that he had become well informed as to what was going on. He knew that Malfoy was using his standard epithets. He knew that the missing person Malfoy must be referring to was Hermione, the girl he had just asked to the ball the previous day — though he didn't understand why she was missing from Potter's side.

He knew what 'mudblood' meant, too. It was time to stop merely observing and start acting. Even if he didn't already think she was a nice girl who didn't deserve such treatment, this was his date that Malfoy was talking about. If nothing else, he needed to take decisive action in order to preserve his own honor and reputation going forward.

Moving far more quickly and silently than one would expect from someone his size, even for a seeker, Krum was suddenly behind the still-sitting Malfoy and had his large hand wrapped tightly around the back of the smaller boy's neck. His fingers reached most of the way around, though not quite enough to dig into the soft tissue in the front. "What you say about Her-my-own-ninny?"

Malfoy squeaked in surprise, though he didn't quite drop his haughty demeanor. He had no idea just how much danger he was in at the moment. "What? You mean Granger? Yes, her, she's a mudblood who hangs around with Potter. What of it?"

Krum started to squeeze, saying, "Mudblood. Yes. I not like this word. You stop using. You stop insulting Her-my-own-ninny."

"Stop? Why?" Malfoy's brain still hadn't woken up to the danger. "She **is** a mudblood. Why shouldn't I say so?"

"And you are small, like bug," Krum said, squeezing hard enough now to elicit a gasp from the boy. Leaning over so he could talk quietly, Krum added, "Why should I not squish?"

Malfoy finally got the message. Suddenly he was convinced that Viktor Krum _would_ squish him and that there was little he could do about it. It was a sobering realization, and for once, he shut up.

Jasmine had simply stopped and stared for the whole exchange. She'd never seen anyone adopt a threatening attitude towards the blonde Slytherin and she wanted to relish every second of it, no matter how much the underlying context confused and upset her. Turning back to the Gryffindor table, her eyes immediately found Hermione and saw what could only be described as happiness, gratitude, and admiration on her face.

That was the absolute last thing she needed to see just then. Spinning around, Jasmine practically ran out of the Great Hall, completely missing the hurt look on Hermione's face when she saw her best friend run away from her.

* * *

Over at the Ravenclaw table, French champion Fleur Delacour didn't miss any of the events that had just transpired. Like Krum, she was widely underestimated by those around her. Between being veela and blonde, she tended to be dismissed by most as an airhead. This was an attitude she had cultivated and often used to her advantage. People tended to talk more freely around those they dismissed as being beneath them, so Fleur had become as good as Krum at watching and listening.

Being veela, though, Fleur noticed different things. Even from the first day, when she exchanged a few words with the green-eyed Gryffindor during the feast that welcomed the visiting schools, she could sense a connection between her and the bushy-haired witch who was always by her side. She couldn't understand exactly what it was, but it was there — like a soft whisper on the wind, promising something, but she was unclear as to what.

About a week ago, she noticed that the connection had changed. It had become clearer and more distinct, like a melody on the wind now, but she still couldn't decipher what it meant. If she were a mature veela she might have been able to interpret it by this point, but being so young, her abilities weren't strong enough. She had been hoping, though, that whatever it was would develop enough over the course of the year for her to understand it. She was very curious because she didn't think she'd ever come across anything quite like it.

Now, however, it appeared that the connection was in disarray. It was still there, but it had become disjointed — like parts of a song that were no longer in harmony. She didn't know why this had happened and doubted there was anything she could do to help. All she could do was keep watching and see how matters progressed. Maybe she could write to her _maman_ and _grandmere_ to see what they had to say. This was proving to be a very interesting year, even aside from the tournament.

* * *

 **Friday, December 18, 1994, Morning.**

Neville was at a complete loss over what to do. For the past two days, his friends had been refusing to talk to each other — not even during the two dance lessons that they'd held since this problem started. Fortunately he'd already intended to focus his instruction time on Jasmine so there was no worry about trying to put the two together, but still... this just made no sense. He knew Jasmine was jealous of Krum, but he had thought she was going to talk to Hermione and work out any misunderstandings.

Something had happened to mess that plan up, obviously. Unfortunately, Jasmine refused to talk to him about it, and when he pressed she got an angry, hurt look in her eyes and walked away. He only tried that once.

He thought that maybe Ginny would be able to help — after all, she was a girl, right? Girls understand girl problems and girl arguments, don't they? Apparently not — Ginny didn't understand what was going on any better than he did. If it were two blokes, they could just fight, go get healed, and everything would be fine. Were all girls this complicated?

Ginny did give him some things to think about, though. When Jasmine told them all last Saturday about her home life, she had left out quite a bit. According to Ginny, during the summer between second and third years, her brothers had used a flying car to rescue Jasmine from her muggle relatives. While there, they discovered bars on her window, a door sealed with multiple locks, and a flap at floor level for delivering food. It sounded like she was being kept a prisoner.

All of her school stuff had been locked in a cupboard that the twins had to break into, and they apparently found much more than just her trunk. They flat-out refused to tell Ginny what exactly they'd seen, but it had been enough to make the normally ebullient twins very somber and reserved. She had no idea what would cause such a reaction, but it scared her, and that was more than enough to worry Neville. He himself hadn't been treated very well by some relatives growing up, but this sounded far, far worse. He thought it might help explain quite a few things about Jasmine's behavior, if he could just figure out how.

Neville had not been prepared for the new direction his life was taking. He grew up alone and isolated, raised by a stern and distant grandmother who seemed to wish that he had been his father instead of just Neville. In Hogwarts he was usually an outsider, not very highly regarded by many who thought he was barely more than a squib. He had never developed much self-confidence because he had never been forced to — at least, not until this term. Early in November he'd found his courage and announced — against an overwhelming tide of public opinion — that he didn't believe Jasmine had cheated to get into the tournament.

It was the hardest thing he'd ever done, especially since he chose to do it publicly in the Gryffindor common room and in front of many people who **did** think she cheated, but he had never regretted it. Ever since, he'd been included more and more in Jasmine's activities, becoming an integral member of her very small circle of friends. He'd even been put in charge of teaching something. Him! Neville Longbottom! He'd never been trusted enough to be put in charge of anything before (except Trevor the toad, who kept escaping). Then there were the secrets he'd been entrusted with — explosive secrets that only one other person had been told about.

None of this had prepared Neville to deal with two teen witches who had stopped speaking to each other. To be fair, few boys his age — muggle or magical — would be in any better position. It wasn't his fault that they weren't talking, but he felt responsible for helping them reconcile. He was the only student who knew just how serious this disagreement really was because only he knew what they actually meant to each other. So it was up to him to help them resolve this, because he was the only one who could.

 _Besides_ , he thought simply, _they're my friends. I can't just do nothing._

Having finally come to a decision, but still not knowing what to do about it, Neville was distracted from further reflection when Headmaster Dumbledore stood up at the head table and started tapping his glass to get everyone's attention. "Students, I apologize for interrupting your breakfast, but I have an important announcement to make. Because of the coming Yule Ball and the students' need to be properly attired, we will be having a Hogsmeade weekend starting tomorrow — both Saturday and Sunday and for extended hours. If you know of anyone who isn't present, please ensure that they are informed. Details will be posted in your common rooms. Thank you."

The volume of conversations increased several-fold as Dumbledore sat down. It seemed that everyone was excited about the prospect of spending more time in Hogsmeade in a couple of days, whether they needed anything for the ball or not.

* * *

Albus Dumbledore looked around the Great Hall, taking in the increased excitement of the students over the announcement about the extra Hogsmeade days. Since he no longer had time to teach, he tended to look forward to things like this because they allowed him to once more feel the energy and passion of youth. And this was just an announcement about shopping! The Yule Ball itself was still to come and promised to be even better.

It was also times like this that he wondered if he might be growing out of touch with today's youth. Without regular, daily contact with young people — contact which he tended not to have, given the all-encompassing nature of his many administrative responsibilities — it was easy to lose touch. It had been so long since he'd been a youth himself, and there was so much of those days that he'd rather just forget...

He had no time for regrets, however. There were too many things at home and abroad which required his input and management. There were too many things which he alone knew and could deal with. It was a heavy burden, but he was willing to shoulder it because there simply wasn't anyone else. He did what he must because he was the only one who could.

Looking over at the Gryffindor table, he frowned when he noticed that once again Miss Potter was sitting separately from Miss Granger, just as had been the case recently with the youngest Mr. Weasley. _It's bad enough that she's estranged from one close friend_ , he thought sadly, _but now two? This is not good, not good at all. Miss Potter needs her friends. The animosity from some others in the school will hopefully thicken her skin a bit, but going friendless would be tragic. This blasted tournament is causing enough problems in her life, she doesn't need any more._

Dumbledore had hoped that the Yule Ball might actually bring a little light and gaiety into her life. He hoped it would do that for all the students, of course, but he recognized that she needed them far more than most. _Now, instead of excited and happy, she looks withdrawn and morose_ , he lamented, _and right now I can't think of a single thing I can do to help._

Sighing, he decided that he wasn't really hungry anymore and stood up from the table. With one last, sad glance at the Girl Who Lived, he made his way back to his office where he hoped that inspiration might come to him.

* * *

 **Friday, December 18, 1994, Late Morning.**

All through the last day of classes for that term, people kept staring at Hermione Granger. Both in the halls and during class, students — mostly female students — would look at her then start whispering to each other. Neville eventually concluded that the "secret" of whom Viktor Krum had asked to the ball wasn't a secret anymore. After Krum's actions in the Great Hall the day before, that was probably to be expected.

When he looked at Hermione herself, he guessed that she had realized what was happening much sooner than he had. He wouldn't say that she looked like she enjoyed all the stares and whispers, but she didn't look very upset, either. It seemed that, at the very least, she was pleased that something good was happening to her — something good in a normal sense, that is.

As Neville thought about it, he realized that most girls might like to be taken to a formal ball by a dashing, handsome young man. Hermione Granger may not have been an especially "girly" girl, gossiping all the time and worrying about things like clothes or makeup, but that didn't make her immune from such fantasies — especially when it was dropped right in her lap like that. Neville didn't claim to know much about girls, but he thought he'd be pretty flattered if, say, Fleur Delacour had asked him to the ball (at least for the two seconds or so before he completely panicked and passed out), so it didn't seem like too much of a stretch to think that this was what Hermione was feeling.

The next puzzle was Jasmine. Her jealousy was much easier to understand — he had that figured out even before Jasmine herself. If he liked Hermione the way Jasmine did, he'd probably feel a bit murderous after learning that Krum had asked her to the ball, too. But why wasn't Jasmine trying to talk to Hermione? And why hadn't Jasmine been able to understand Hermione the way Neville had? Unless he was wrong in what he thought was going on with Hermione?

Neville sighed and tried to force his thoughts back to Flitwick's lecture. Why were girls so complicated?

* * *

 **Friday, December 18, 1994, Evening.**

Neville Longbottom was _so_ glad the day was over. He was certain that he'd never had to endure a longer Friday in his entire life. On top of everything else, the day had ended with double Potions. Hermione had been avoiding partnering with Jasmine in their other classes almost all week, but that was never going to work with Snape. He didn't tolerate such changes, and the knowledge that the once-close girls were having problems only made him happier to force them to work together.

It would have been a disaster no matter what they tried to brew, but Snape had chosen today of all days to teach them how to brew poison antidotes — and to force the students to test out their own antidotes. Jasmine and Hermione were both expected to live, but... no, he really didn't want to think about it again. He'd already submitted a signed statement for the investigation and that was the end of it, as far as he was concerned. He was just happy he, at least, still had all his hair. Others hadn't been so lucky.

When he entered the Gryffindor common room, he saw a catatonic Ron sitting the by the fireplace while his sister Ginny kept snapping her fingers in front of his face. "C'mon Ron, snap out of it."

"What's going on? What's wrong with Ron? Is this about the, er...?" Neville didn't want to say it out loud. If he didn't say it, he could pretend that it hadn't really happened, right?

"No, worse," Ginny answered. "After he was released, he saw Fleur Delacour near the castle front doors and for some reason got the bright idea to ask her out to the ball."

"What?" Neville hadn't seen this coming. "Did he really ask her out?"

"Not exactly," said Ginny with a grimace. "He more... shouted it at her. Well, he shouted something. It sounded like 'You. Ball. Me.' I guess it was an invitation to the ball. Then he just ran. I followed to make sure he was alright, so I don't know how she reacted."

Neville tried not to laugh, he really did. He had a lot of sympathy for a bloke who wanted to ask out a pretty bird but was scared. Still, it was a funny situation. Neville was positive that even he couldn't make such a hash of asking someone out.

Neville gave the ginger Gryffindor boy an appraising look, then asked, "Assuming her answer is 'no,' Ron, what are you going to do now? Who's next on your list of potential dates?"

"Assuming?" Ron croaked out, showing signs of consciousness for the first time.

"Sure, you didn't stick around for her answer, so even if she was going to say yes, she might not do so now. But you don't know for sure, do you? She might be impressed that you had the stones to ask at all — impressed enough to even forgive you for running off. Maybe you should go back and check?"

A goofy grin started to spread across Ron's face. "Yeah, I should. Maybe she was impressed by me. Maybe she's out looking for me right now. I better go find her before she decides to give up and go with someone else!" With that, Ron jumped out of his chair and ran for the common room entrance.

"Neville!" shouted Ginny, half in exasperation and half in amusement. "I know I should probably laugh, but he _is_ my brother." She sighed and finally said, "I should follow him and make sure he doesn't hurt himself. At least, not too badly."

Once alone, Neville rocked back and forth a couple of times on the balls of his feet. "Hmmm..." he said softly to himself, "pranks aren't so bad after all."

* * *

Ginny didn't show up that evening for dance practice. _Maybe she's still trying to find Ron, who's trying to find Fleur, who's probably in hiding_ , thought Neville.

Jasmine and Hermione weren't there either, probably because they were still... _Better not to think about it,_ Neville stopped himself with a shudder. He considered just dancing by himself, but even to him that sounded a bit pathetic. He could afford to skip practice for one evening.

* * *

 **Saturday, December 19, 1994, Afternoon.**

Jasmine and Hermione didn't return to the Gryffindor common room until after lunch on Saturday. By this point everyone in the castle had heard about what had happened in Potions the previous day, and absolutely no one wanted to ask the two witches about it. Some traumas just weren't meant to be shared.

Surprisingly, the two moved immediately to join Ron, Ginny, and Neville who were all sitting together at a table in the back of the common room. They didn't sit next to each other like they once would have, but the fact that they sat at the same table — and voluntarily — was remarkable. Of course, maybe it was merely because they were distracted by the events of the previous day.

The two fourth-year witches indeed looked very subdued. Neville was looking curious while Ginny was looking amused at her brother, who was still looking a bit anxious and panicked. He hadn't found Fleur after all and wisely decided to give up on the idea of asking her again. Suddenly, Ron had an epiphany — never a good sign for his immediate future.

"Say, Jasmine, you're a girl, aren't you?" Ron asked. Said witch, who was indeed a girl, turned very slowly and fixed her on-again, off-again friend with a hard glare, as if daring him to insert his foot just a little bit further.

Never one to turn down a dare, Ron continued, "I know you don't have a date to the ball. I mean, even Herms here has one — and with Krum, too!"

If it were possible to set someone on fire just by looking at them, Ron Weasley would have been reduced to a pile of ashes in short order. Everyone else recognized just how badly he was handling this — even Hermione looked horrified, though that may have been in part due to the use of "Herms" — but Ron marched gamely on.

"So, will you go with me to the ball? You have to have a date, right? If you keep waiting, there'll be no one left, and then what'll you do? Go with Snape?" Neville was certain that he could hear growling — actual growling — coming from somewhere deep in Jasmine's chest, and he was desperately trying to think of a way to defuse the situation in a way that let Ron keep all his bits intact.

"I'll have you know, Ronald Bilius Weasley, that I do have a date," Jasmine managed to get out through gritted teeth. "In fact, I was asked the very evening that the ball was announced. I've even said as much, more than once, and I think you were around to hear it."

"Pfft, you were just winding Malfoy up all those times you told him you had a date. You didn't mean it, I could tell. And who do you know well enough besides me that you'd accept a date with them that fast? I think you're just trying to cover up the fact that no one has asked you yet. No need to feel embarrassed about it, though, since I'm asking you now. I've solved all your problems."

These statements were accompanied by a broad, self-satisfied grin on the ginger Gryffindor's face, indicating that he didn't have the slightest idea of just how he sounded to the witch he was talking to — or indeed, to any witch in hearing distance. The group was starting to attract attention from the few Gryffindors who hadn't gone to Hogsmeade that day. Not everyone could hear the words being spoken, but most could easily recognize the signs of impending doom and started slowly moving away.

"You... you... you..." Jasmine could not come up with words that adequately expressed just how infuriated she was. "I can't believe how **fucking** inconsiderate people in this castle are. First Hermione and now you. Just... just..." Jasmine looked like she was about to spontaneously combust — not an entirely implausible scenario, as most reports of so-called spontaneous combustion are actually violent incidents of accidental magic. The fact that some of Jasmine's auburn hair seemed to start undulating and moving despite the absence of any wind didn't improve the image she was projecting. " **Gah!** " she finally shouted, reduced by Ron's words to little more than incoherent vocalizations.

At that she stormed off and left the common room, everyone watching after her wondering what to do. Ginny had had enough and decided to set her brother straight before he did something that resulted in serious, lasting harm to himself. Grabbing him by the ear, she said, "Come, dear brother of mine. First I'm going to explain a few things to you about how **not** to treat witches. Then I'm going to tell you where you can get a date — but only if you actually listen and learn during the first bit. Got it?" Ron was torn between pain from his ear, embarrassment from being called out in public like that, and excitement at the prospect of finally getting a date. Then he came back around to embarrassment again because if he did get a date, it looked like it would only be because of his little sister.

This left Neville and Hermione alone at the table. At Jasmine's outburst, Hermione had jerked as if she had been slapped, and now she looked about ready to get up and leave. Neville put his hand on his arm to stop her and said, "No, Hermione, don't walk away yet. We need to talk, and I haven't been able to get you alone recently."

"I'm sorry, Neville, but I wouldn't be very good company right now. I already wasn't feeling all that great, but now after what Jasmine just said... does she really think that of me? And why? What's the matter with her? I'm feeling kind of ill right now — I really should be going..."

"That's what I want to talk about, as a matter of fact. I think I have some idea of what's going on with her." Hermione looked hopeful at that, but Neville continued, "However, I'd like to talk about **you** first."

"Me, what about me?" asked Hermione with a puzzled look on her face.

"Well, can you answer a simple question for me?" Neville asked. "Here it is: what exactly have you been doing for the past few days since Krum asked you to the ball? You see, I know that you'd like to go to the ball with a certain someone, but can't. Once Krum asked you, though, it seemed like you forgot entirely about that first preference of yours — it was all about Krum. I can understand being excited about being asked to go, especially by an international star like him, but I'm not sure I understand forgetting about everyone and everything else. You haven't exactly been acting like you are only going to the ball with Krum as friends — not even when only around the three of us."

Hermione turned pale as realization dawned. "Oh, no! I got so excited about someone asking me out that I forgot about everything else!"

Neville tried to smile in a reassuring manner. "I doubt that you're the first to do that. Now, let's talk about Jasmine. I've been thinking — she didn't have the greatest home life, did she? I noticed we skipped over the details about her home when writing out problems in her life, but I remember some odd comments she's made over the years. I've also noticed that her muggle clothing has always looked rather bad," Neville continued. "I'm guessing she was never given much by her relatives?"

"That's one way to put it," Hermione answered, trying to figure out where he was going with this.

"And having someone who really cares about her is kind of new for her, isn't it?"

"Again, that's putting it mildly," Hermione said, the wheels still turning in her head.

"So if she's never had much of anything that was important to her, and now she's got this one person in her life who suddenly means everything... don't you think she might be afraid of losing that?" Neville asked gently.

Hermione looked up in surprise. "She's jealous? But Viktor and I aren't... I mean, I never said..." Suddenly she remembered just what she _had_ said, and done, ever since Viktor had asked her to the ball, and how that must have looked to Jasmine. "But... but why didn't she talk to me about it? I would have told her that Viktor and I are just friends — not even that, really, because I barely know him!" she added, bewildered.

"She said she was going to the other night after dancing," Neville replied. "Did something happen?"

Hermione paused, trying to remember. "I was already in bed by the time she got to the dorm — maybe she thought I was asleep. And the next morning... oh, Merlin, that was when Lavender and Parvati were gushing about Viktor, and Jasmine just blew up." Abruptly she stopped and frowned at Neville. "Wait, she already talked to you about this? When she hadn't even talked to _me_ yet?"

Neville shrugged. "I could see something was bothering her, so I asked her about it. She seemed to have a hard time even making sense of what she was feeling. I guess if you've never had much to lose, you might not recognize jealousy if it hit you, or be very good at dealing with it when it did." He paused, then added pointedly, "It did seem to help her to have someone to talk to."

Hermione groaned at his unspoken criticism and put her face in her hands. "You're right, I'm sorry. Oh, Neville, what have I done?"

"That doesn't matter so much as what you're _going_ to do," he said firmly. Inside, Neville was doing a happy dance that after several days of thinking about little else, he had gotten close enough to the truth that Hermione could agree with him. Now he just needed to get her to act on those insights.

"What?" Hermione asked, suddenly looking up.

"I'm pretty sure that she's gone to your training room," Neville explained. "What you need to do is to go there, spend time with her, and talk this out. You've both made mistakes — _understandable_ mistakes. You can get past them, but first you need to start talking. You need to remember what you feel for each other and what you still have with each other. Yes, you still have it — you just need to remind each other of that."

Tears shone in Hermione's eyes as she listened to him. "When did you get to be so wise, Neville?"

He just grinned. "Hey, I can't keep spending so much time with such smart witches and remain a dunderhead forever, can I?"

"Thanks, Neville. I'll probably be gone for a while," Hermione said as she rose from the table.

"Good," he replied. "I'd be worried if you weren't. Be sure to give her a smack on the back of the head for me, yeah?" Hermione probably didn't hear the last bit, as she was already moving at high speed for the common room door.

Once she was gone, Neville sagged in relief. He knew he'd sounded far more confident than he really felt. _Merlin_ , he thought, _I hope I was right about all of that..._

* * *

Although she wanted to run all the way to their training room, Hermione quickly realized that she needed a bit of time to organize her thoughts and think of what she was going to say, then what Jasmine would likely say, and how she would respond. She mentally reviewed what she could remember of how she behaved over the past few days, especially when Krum was around or was mentioned.

She grimaced at this, realizing for the first time just how much of a simpering fangirl she must have looked like. _I acted almost as bad as I did with Lockhart! Even worse, I don't even_ _ **like**_ _Quidditch unless Jasmine is playing!_ As she thought of it, she started to realize that this might be a disturbing pattern in her life. _When I first met Jasmine on the train, I immediately tried to impress her. When we were taught by Lockhart, I practically fawned over him all year. Then, as soon as Krum asked me out... yikes!_

Fortunately, she knew that she wasn't actually a fangirl. She wasn't even attracted to Krum, really. She did respect his skills, though, and she had indeed insisted that she'd only go with him if they were going as friends. What easily looked like fangirl behavior on the outside was simply her reveling in the fact that _someone_ thought highly enough of her to ask her out to a ball.

 _Krum asking me to the dance wasn't the same as Jasmine asking me out,_ she mused. _Krum doesn't know me like Jasmine does, he's hardly ever spoken to me. All he knows about me is what I look like and that I spend a lot of time in the library... and he still asked me to the Yule Ball. Me! And it's Viktor Krum, an international Quidditch star who could probably go out with just about anyone he wanted._

It was hard _not_ to swoon a little at that.

 _But apparently I swooned a little too much, and Jasmine noticed,_ Hermione lamented. _Noticed and was hurt by it. So she lashed out, and I took it personally, refusing to speak to her after that._

She sighed. _Like Neville said, we both made mistakes, but if I'm going to be brutally honest I have to admit that the primary fault lies with me. It was an accident, but the responsibility is mine. So the responsibility for apologizing first is mine, too._

 _I just need Jasmine to sit still and calm down long enough for me to explain,_ she thought. _I can make this right. I just need to find the right combination of words that will soothe and heal._

Hermione was good with words. She could do this.

Finding herself standing in front of the training room door, Hermione took a couple of deep breaths to steady herself while she reviewed the best phrasings she'd been able to think of. Moving quickly in order to not lose courage, she opened the door, slammed it shut, tossed up her privacy and silencing spells, then turned to face her objective.

Jasmine Potter stood there looking quite pitiful. Her hair was a mess — well, more of a mess than usual — and her eyes were puffy from crying. She was breathing heavily and had a look of desperation on her tear-streaked face.

Hermione just stared at her, all thoughts of soothing words and clever phrasing gone. Jasmine stared back, all her rage having left her. As they looked at each other — for the first time in days, really _looked_ at each other — both realized that words weren't needed at all.

Neither was conscious of having moved, but when they met in the middle of the room, they reminded each other of what they still had together by the simplest means possible. Their kiss lasted much, much longer than any previously had, and this time, the two glowing balls of light that started in each of their chests grew larger, with distinct tendrils becoming easily visible. This time, because the girls' bodies were pressed so tightly together, the blue and green tendrils didn't have far to stretch and so managed to make contact, beginning to intertwine just before the witches pulled back and the glow disappeared.

They eventually did get around to talking out their problems. Hermione apologized for acting like a besotted groupie, explaining that regardless of what it had looked like, she was indeed only going with Viktor as friends. As it turned out, that's what he'd wanted, too.

Jasmine apologized for her outbursts and bad behavior. They talked about why she had acted that way, and while Hermione understood, she also said that they would need to work on it together because they couldn't be in a long-term relationship if she had to worry about Jasmine's fear and jealousy getting out of control all the time.

Jasmine didn't hear much else after that because she was nearly giddy that Hermione was thinking about having "a long-term relationship" with her.

However, it took a while before they got to the part of the conversation that used words — first, the two witches held a much more basic conversation. It still involved lips and tongues, but it was a more primal way of expressing emotions. It was also the conversation that, in their minds, was the most important.


	9. Yule Preparations

**Recommendation:** This chapter's recommended fic is "After Sunrise" by Hlpur. Sadly never finished, this was one of the first H/Hr fics I ever read and favorited. Harry and Hermione return from Australia with a couple of surprises which some of their friends find to be wonderful; others, not so much. Not deep, but entertaining. I will forever lament the fact that it was apparently abandoned.

* * *

 **Chapter 09 - Yule Preparations**

 **Sunday, December 20, 1994, Morning.**

It was a relieved Minerva McGonagall who welcomed Jasmine and Hermione into her office that morning. The tension between the two of them earlier in the week had been palpable, and for a while she had feared the worst; but now it seemed that whatever was wrong had been worked out. _Even so_ , she thought to herself, _it would be a good idea to check and make sure that similar problems don't happen again in the future._

Guiding them away from her desk and towards a set of chairs arranged around a small table, she said, "Why don't we sit over here. This is where I entertain more personal visitors. Although I don't expect us to avoid academic topics and school, I see that our conversations will be more personal than professional. It could be a problem if anyone else comes by and sees because they'll wonder why I'm treating you this way, but the chances of that are small. Most know better than to come here on a Sunday — in fact, that's why I asked you to start coming on this day of the week."

The chairs here, plush and decorated with Gryffindor colors, were far more comfortable than the straight-backed wooden chairs set out for visitors at her desk, and the two younger witches were glad for the accommodation. On the table sat a tea service and a delicate lace covering protecting the table top.

After tea was served, Minerva began with an inquiry about the recent state of their relationship. "I have to ask you about how things are between the two of you on a personal level. I could see that you were at odds with each other earlier this week, despite your denials, but now it looks like matters have improved?"

Both girls looked a bit ashamed at being reminded of their fight — they had only just made up the night before, so the memories of anger and pain were still fresh. Hermione spoke up first. "It was mostly just misunderstandings. We both made mistakes, but it was my fault more than hers. I was invited to the ball by Viktor Krum early in the week, and I was so flattered that I just... lost my head a bit, I guess. Unfortunately, it gave the impression that I fancied Viktor, which understandably made Jasmine upset."

"Hermione has pointed out to me that I need to find better ways to deal with feelings like jealousy," Jasmine continued. "I can't keep it all bottled up then let it explode when the pressure gets to be too much. That was my mistake. Luckily for me, Hermione was willing to look past that and come to me when I was angry so we could start working it out."

"I'm glad to hear that," Minerva said. "It's not just important for the two of you to resolve your differences after an argument (and you will have arguments — all couples do), but also to identify the causes and think of ways to avoid having the same sort of argument again later. Learn from your mistakes and you'll become a far stronger couple in the long run. The close friendship that already exists between the two of you should make that easier."

The two witches glowed at this praise from their professor. Jasmine in particular was unaccustomed to being complemented by someone in authority for doing well.

"Now, speaking of your relationship," Minerva continued, "have either of you had time to start reading the book I gave you? I'm interested in whether you have any comments to share, questions about the content, or even personal insights that the book has generated."

Hermione looked slightly embarrassed at this point and answered after a moment, "I'm sorry, but no. I've skimmed through some of it, but I thought that it might make more sense for me to first read the standard, traditional wizarding positions on matters like love and marriage, then read your book so I can at the same time learn how they differ. Finding the material in the library has been tough, but I've already read through the books on marriage that I found most interesting."

McGonagall pursed her lips and looked to be deep in thought for a long moment before saying, "To be perfectly honest, I'm not sure which approach would be best. Normally I'd recommend reading the Pureheart book first because having her perspective already in mind would make the narrow-mindedness and bigotry of the traditional wizarding positions much easier to recognize. But I'm not sure that that would be the case with you, Miss Granger — you seem quite adept at recognizing some of the flaws in magical society."

Hermione smiled and was quite pleased again at the praise.

"However," Minerva continued, "At least some of that — and possibly most — is due to the fact that you're an outsider. You don't share all the assumptions and prejudices which people raised in magical society take for granted. But what about your own assumptions and prejudices which you bring with you from your muggle upbringing?"

Hermione frowned, suddenly not sure that she was being praised anymore and uncertain how she should answer the question. "I'm sorry?"

"Well, Miss Granger," Minerva said as she sipped her tea, "Every society has its faults, and every person has assumptions and prejudices which they learn from their family, their community, and society as a whole. Most people typically aren't even aware that they have them — they're simply taken for granted. This is true for both magicals and muggles. It's true about me, and it's true about you."

Comprehension dawned on Hermione's face. She had been so busy picking apart the prejudices she found surrounding her in magical society that she'd never stopped to think about what sorts of prejudices she might be carrying herself.

"If I'm not mistaken, there is still prejudice against same-sex relationships among muggles, correct?" Minerva asked. When both young witches nodded in agreement, she continued, "This means that you two carry at least some prejudicial assumptions about them, despite your recent revelations about yourselves. Then there are any number of assumptions you may carry regarding love in general, marriage, other types of relationships, and of course sex."

The young witches both squirmed at the mention of sex, not having expected to ever broach that topic with the much older woman. Minerva decided to ignore their reactions — for now. She knew that they would have to get over their attitudes towards sex and sexuality, especially with that book now in their hands.

"If you start your research with books written from a traditional perspective, you'll catch many prejudices because you don't share them, but you may miss others because they happen to be shared with the muggles and you unconsciously hold them as well. Pureheart skewers most of the common prejudices among magicals, and I expect she also challenges a great many currently held by muggles, too. If you read her book _first_ you may be able to approach the others with a more critical eye."

The room grew silent as everyone took the time to consider Minerva's words. These were new ideas to the fourth-year Gryffindor girls, even Hermione, and it took a bit for them to process everything.

"I'm not saying that starting in the library is necessarily a bad idea," Minerva finally stated. "I'm just saying that it isn't necessarily the best, either. You'll need to think about which is best for you."

Switching topics, the professor asked, "Now, what are you two planning for the Yule Ball?"

Jasmine spoke up this time, explaining how the students had arranged matters. "Well, I'm still going with Neville, and Hermione is going with Viktor Krum. We intend to try to spend a little time with each other alone that night, but we know we won't get much, if any. Ginny has been joining Neville, Hermione, and me for dancing practice nearly every night. Today Hermione and I intend to get dresses in Hogsmeade..."

"Wait," interrupted Minerva, "why don't you have dresses? They were on the list of items for this year."

"I did get one," answered Jasmine, "but Hermione didn't because she didn't expect to want to go to whatever was happening. Well, neither did I, but Mrs. Weasley forced me to get it after the Quidditch World Cup. Anyway, Hermione is going to get a dress, and I thought I'd get something new if we can find one that compliments hers. We can't go together, but we can dress as if we were, and it shouldn't arouse much suspicion since everyone knows we're close friends."

Minerva smiled at their plan. "That sounds quite nice. I'm glad to hear that you're trying to do something to give yourselves the feeling of going together, even if you can't do so officially. But if you intend to do much dress shopping in Hogsmeade, you should probably get going now — you'll need as much time as you can get. Let me offer a tip, though. Most students probably go to Gladrags because it's the best known clothing shop, and it's right on High Street. A bit further down, however, is a side street off to the right, and it will take you to some different stores usually frequented by townsfolk. There you'll find Gossypamer & Organza's, a store that specializes in dresses, robes, and other upscale clothing for witches. They will be a little more expensive, but I think you'll like what you'll find. And they shouldn't be as busy, even today, so you might get some personal service."

The two young Gryffindors looked happy to learn about this, but before they could go to make use of this advice, their professor had something else to say. "I realize that this might seem to be coming a bit late, but I needed time to process it all and reflect on my past behavior." Looking from one to the other, she continued, regret clearly etched on her face. "When you first came to me, you came with a list of serious grievances about my past actions. At first I was defensive and denied that you had legitimate complaints. Then, after you forced me to confront the gravity of a couple of those incidents, I reluctantly conceded that I had been in the wrong in those cases and may have been wrong in others."

Jasmine's and Hermione's eyes had grown wide listening to this. They hadn't given a lot of thought to that first meeting because so much had been happening, but clearly the older woman had.

Minerva put down her teacup and folded her hands in her lap, looking uncomfortable saying all of this. "Last week, you provided a detailed list of questionable actions by Professor Dumbledore, many of which involved me as well. After spending the past couple of weeks thinking about it, I must to my great shame admit that I have indeed wronged you both, and you especially, Miss Potter. Although not every incident could have been handled differently, all could have at least been handled better, with greater care taken to minimize the harm to you."

Making an obvious point of looking them both in the eyes, she continued, "It's not easy for me to admit, but I am sorry for the extent to which I've failed you, both by my actions and my inaction. I promise you that I will try to do better by both of you, just as someone in my position should. However," she warned them, "I won't always be able to do as much as I'd like because of oaths to follow the headmaster's instructions."

Both young witches were greatly moved. "We understand, Professor," Hermione assured her quietly. Jasmine nodded and said formally, "We accept your apology." Then her face softened with a shy smile as she added, "Thank you."

* * *

 **Sunday, December 20, 1994, Late Morning.**

Walking along the snow-lined path to Hogsmeade, Hermione's eyes widened briefly and she said, "Oh, Jasmine, before we go to that store, we need to go to the Owl Post Office so I can change money. I wrote to my parents and asked them to send me some cash so I could buy a dress."

With a knowing grin, Jasmine responded, "I'll bet that was fun. How much did you grovel in your letter, and how many times did your parents repeat 'I told you so'?"

"Mmmm, crow — tasty!" Hermione said sourly, smacking her lips. Then she sighed. "Still, it could have been worse. I think it helped that I used you for sympathy points."

"Me?"

"Sure. I didn't tell them that it was a ball or that I had a date — I didn't want to have to grovel about that, too. I simply told them that it was a formal affair, and I needed to go because of you, since you're a champion. I already told them how you were being forced to compete, of course, and I think I benefited from their sympathy for you."

"Oh?" Jasmine asked dryly. "How very Slytherin of you, Miss Granger."

"Now, now — you don't have to get nasty. So, Owl Post Office first?"

"No need," Jasmine responded. "I've still got plenty of galleons from when I visited Gringotts before the World Cup."

"Jasmine," Hermione said with a little heat in her voice, "I can pay for my own dress."

"I know, Hermione, but it's easier this way. You have to pay a fee to exchange money, right? Why do that when I already have galleons? We can go exchange your muggle money later if I don't have enough, but if I do, why not simply give me the equivalent in British pounds?"

"Oh, sure! That makes sense."

"And you'll find that my exchange fee is far more pleasant than the Post's."

"Oh?" asked Hermione suspiciously. "What are your fees, exactly?"

"Just one kiss per galleon," Jasmine answered impishly.

"I don't know," Hermione hedged, though with a gleam in her eye. "Sounds a bit steep to me..."

"Well, be careful, or I'll have to tack on a few service charges, too," Jasmine replied with a grin.

"And what might these service charges be?" Hermione asked archly. When she didn't hear a response, she looked over at her girlfriend to see her wiggling her fingers in a tickling motion. "Oh, no!" Hermione said anxiously as she backed away down the path. "No... don't you dare... Jasmine Dorea Potter, don't you **dare** try to tickle... eeeek!" As Jasmine launched herself forward, Hermione turned and ran towards Hogsmeade, yelling and laughing the whole way. They didn't stop until they reached the side street described to them by Professor McGonagall, where they leaned up against a wall to catch their breaths.

"So," Jasmine asked, still panting, "I assume I don't need to impose any service charges?"

"No," Hermione answered with a wide but tired smile, "I'll happily pay the exchange fee, if that's okay with you."

* * *

Professor McGonagall's recommendation of Gossypamer & Organza's was spot-on. It was by far much nicer than Gladrags, with a better selection of upscale women's clothing — even if it wasn't the sort that most students would have occasion to wear often. While Hermione was browsing some dresses, however, Jasmine discovered an unexpected surprise: wizarding lingerie.

Since Hermione was otherwise occupied, Jasmine got a crash course in magical undergarments from a helpful wardrobe witch, and she discovered that there were some big differences from the muggle versions. For one thing, magical undergarments didn't rely on straps and other physical elements to the same degree as their muggle counterparts. This meant that the magical versions could be smaller and lighter, and thus a lot more comfortable — and that was before temperature and sizing charms were added. They could also be lacier and more revealing without sacrificing comfort, support, or anything else a witch might desire.

That was all it took for Jasmine to fall in love with magical clothing.

"Hermione, get over here!" she called excitedly.

"Can it wait? I was about to try this on."

Jasmine rushed over and grabbed Hermione by the shoulders. "Two words," she said as she stared into her girlfriend's face. "Magic. Bras."

Hermione's eyes went wide at the implications, and she put up no further resistance as the green-eyed witch seized her arm and dragged her over to the lingerie display. Between the two of them, Gossypamer & Organza's did enough business on girls' undergarments alone to close for the day, but the Gryffindor teens weren't done — they still had to find a dress or dresses.

Unfortunately, that part of their plan didn't go as well. They were unable to find two dresses that would have complemented each other in the way that the girls had been hoping for. They could have gotten matching dresses, but even they had enough social sense to recognize how bad of an idea that was. This left them looking for a dress which looked good on Hermione and didn't clash (too badly at least) with what Jasmine already had.

In the end, Hermione decided on a beautiful periwinkle blue dress that had a satin bodice, cascading ruffles of increasingly dark chiffon for the skirt that went all the way to her ankles, light butterfly sleeves, and a contrasting tie at the waist. They were originally going to go with a simpler red dress that came to mid-calf, but she fell in love with the more elaborate blue one and purchased it on the spot.

They were confident that it would mesh well enough with Jasmine's, an elegant, floor-length dress with a medium blue V-neck halter, midnight blue bodice, and a skirt with alternating waves of medium and light blue ruffled satin.

Since they could only find one dress, they decided to splurge a little more and purchase some other clothing. It was more upscale and expensive than what they were used to, either in muggle or in magical shops, but they were having such a good time that they couldn't resist the temptation. Between the two of them, they added several blouses, skirts, robes, and shoes to the pile of undergarments already waiting for them at the till.

* * *

Walking back to High Street to hopefully meet up with friends for a late snack at the Three Broomsticks, the pair passed by a flower store they hadn't noticed before, Magical Blooms. Pulling on Hermione's hand, Jasmine led them both inside. "What do we need in here, Jas?" she asked.

"Well," Jasmine answered, "if we can't have dresses that coordinate well, perhaps we can find matching flowers to go on the dresses?"

"Jasmine! That's a fantastic idea!"

Browsing around the flower shop, the two Gryffindors discovered some amazing oriental lilies. Before the approached, the lilies had the standard pinkish hues, but when the girls got up next to them, they started shifting colors to match what the girls were wearing.

"Excuse me," Hermione called out to the man behind the counter. "Can you tell us about these lilies?"

"Greetings!" the man said as he came up to the girls. "My name is Rosenzweig, owner of Magical Blooms. We just received our first-ever shipment of these magical lilies. They were first bred by a couple living in California, and apparently it was an accident. The wizard was the clumsy sort and spilled an unidentified potion into his wife's flowerbed, thus producing what you see here. The magical lily looks like a standard oriental lily at first, but starts shifting to match the colors you are wearing."

"That's amazing," enthused Jasmine. "How long does the effect last?"

"Oh, these lilies will last for another week yet at least. The potion they were treated with evidently increases their longevity in addition to giving them the color-changing property."

"Jasmine, we can use these to create wrist corsages," said Hermione. "They'll be similar, but not exactly the same, and they'll go with both of our dresses perfectly!"

"What's a wrist corsage?" asked Mr. Rosenzweig.

"In the muggle world," explained Hermione, "it's common for women to wear small flower designs with their fancy dresses. A standard corsage is pinned to the dress; a wrist corsage fits around the wrist like a bracelet. They are usually made up of multiple flowers and some ribbon. I was thinking of putting one of these magical lilies in the center and surrounding it with some small white rose buds."

"That sounds marvelous!' said Mr. Rosenzweig. "I've never heard of such a thing myself, but I'd love to help you. If you'll allow me to design these for you, I'll throw in the white roses for free. Can you come by to pick them up later?"

"Yes, certainly," said Jasmine. "Thank you so much!"

"You're quite welcome, young ladies," Rosenzweig said as he ushered them out of his store. "Just tell everyone where you got them. They might be good for business!"

* * *

Unable to find their friends, Jasmine and Hermione decided to simply sit together in the Three Broomsticks with a couple of warm butterbeers. Slowly, Jasmine tried to bring up a subject she had long wondered about, but hadn't ever been able to figure out how to ask about. Earlier, though, Hermione had given her an opening. A bit of time had passed, but this was the best chance she'd seen in ages, and she couldn't waste it.

"Ummm... Hermione? Can I ask you about something?"

"Sure, Jas," she answered, wondering about the auburn-haired witch's abrupt change in demeanor.

"Earlier, you mentioned that your parents sent you the money you asked for, and that they didn't give you a hard time about it, right?"

"Yes...?"

"Well, that reminded me of something that's had me curious but I haven't known how to ask about. You never say much of anything about your family — none of your family, parents or anyone else. I've worried that maybe you've had problems at home, like I do, but you don't have any of the issues that I do, and on the few occasions you do mention your parents, they seem OK. Is there anything you'd like to talk about? I don't mean to pry, but I've been a little concerned."

Hermione sagged deeper and deeper into her seat as Jasmine spoke. This was not something she been looking forward to talking about. _And on a day that had been going so well, too! Oh, well, I guess it had to happen some time. Might as well get it over with..._

"No, Jasmine, I don't have problems at home — not like you do, certainly. My parents are nice. They're great people — they're successful, ambitious, own their own business, involved in the community, go to church..." Hermione sighed deeply before continuing, "But all of that makes them busy. Too busy for me, most of the time."

Jasmine reached under the table, where no one would see, to take Hermione's hand as it was resting on her knee.

"When I was fairly young, I must have started to resent how much time they were spending away from me and tried to find a way to get their attention. There were always lots of books around the house, and my parents like to read, so I think I chose to focus on that — especially non-fiction books, because they would have seemed the most 'adult' of anything I could find."

Taking a drink of warm butterbeer, Hermione paused for a few moments before resuming. "That backfired, I guess. They saw me reading mature, adult books. I have an fantastic memory, so I remembered what I read and thus gave the impression of being smart. I was an only child, so I acted like the two main people in my life: my parents. In the end, I think all of that caused my parents to regard me as a small adult rather than a child, and so they began giving me more of the freedoms and privileges of an adult rather than the time and guidance needed by a child.

"At first, I was thrilled. What kid doesn't want to have some of the respect and freedom that adults take for granted? I could come and go to the library almost whenever I wanted, for example. Since I truly loved to learn and read, that was fantastic. But the downside of this new arrangement soon became clear. I no longer had a babysitter waiting at home for me, and my parents felt free to stay away from home even longer. We no longer took trips that kids would enjoy, like to the zoo. In the end, my attempts to get more attention from my parents actually cost me much of what little I'd been getting.

"Even worse, encouraging me to act more like an adult only made it harder for me to learn how to be with kids my own age, and you know how that's turned out. It's only been recently that I've been able to look back on my behavior and recognize the mistakes I made. I wasn't an adult and didn't handle myself well. I've had the worst of both worlds: in some ways I'm more mature than my peers and I can't relate to them; in other ways I'm still behind them, and we only end up annoying each other."

Hermione wiped a couple of stray tears from her eyes before taking another sip of butterbeer. "Don't get me wrong, my parents are nice people. Everyone I've met seems to think so, at any rate. They certainly aren't hypocrites who put on a good face for the outside world, but who are mean and nasty in private — at home, they are just as nice and polite as when in public. They just... they don't understand me. Maybe they don't understand kids, and any child of theirs would have been in the same position. Sometimes, though... sometimes I wonder how much of it is me."

Hermione was having more trouble holding back her tears, now, but she pushed on anyway. "Whatever the reasons, we've been distant for years, and that distance has only been growing since I learned I was a witch. That's partly my fault because I haven't tried to bridge the gap. Nothing I did worked before I discovered magic, and now magic has given me a refuge where I can hide from that particular problem. I love my parents, I really do, but... well, I don't know if that's enough. I don't know if there's enough of a relationship left to salvage. Or if there is, how we'd go about doing it."

Jasmine suddenly wished she had asked this in a more private setting. If there weren't so many people around, she'd wrap the brunette witch in a hug and provide whatever comfort she could. Here in public, though, holding her hand under the table was the best she could do — and it wasn't nearly enough to help the now-sobbing girl.

It might not be enough for now, but Jasmine would plan. Oh, yes, she would plan. _I'll say this much for the Durselys,_ Jasmine mused. _For all that their treatment of me was awful, there were never any mixed messages. The Dursleys hate me, I hate the Dursleys. Simple._

Hermione's situation was far more confusing. _If I had my parents, I'd be happy to take them any way I could get them — she shouldn't feel like she has to give up on hers because they are having trouble understanding her. They obviously love and support her, and that should be enough to build on. Now, I need to figure out how to get the reconciliation process started..._

* * *

 **Sunday, December 20, 1994, Evening.**

Dancing lessons went far better that Sunday evening than they had during the previous evenings. Everyone was in a good mood, especially Ginny. True to his word, Neville had dropped a few hints with Dean Thomas. It had taken a bit, but the other boy had finally figured out that Ginny Weasley was available and might be interested, so he had taken her shopping in Hogsmeade earlier that day and asked her to the Yule Ball while they were eating lunch in the Three Broomsticks. Ginny then immediately went to Gladrags, where she was able to find an inexpensive but nice dress.

With everyone in such a good mood, they felt lighter on their feet and found it easier to dance smoothly. Neville's culture and tradition lesson covered honor duels, a somewhat unpleasant subject but one which could have significant implications for one's family. Jasmine remembered the duel which Draco Malfoy had challenged her to back in first year — a duel which he had skipped out on. She was surprised to learn that if the wording had made it an official duel, things could have gone badly for the Malfoy heir.

As they were leaving, Neville moved next to Jasmine and said quietly, "I'm so glad that you two made up and aren't fighting any more. It was hard on the rest of us because we didn't know what to do. Especially me, since I knew that the fight was more serious than others realized."

"We're sorry, Neville. We both made mistakes, but we've promised each other to find ways to not make those same mistakes again."

"Yeah, I'm sure you'll find all new ones, eh?"

"Prat," Jasmine said as she punched him lightly in the shoulder.

"So, do you plan on getting her an extra make-up gift for Christmas, or is your main gift good enough to cover it all?"

"Uh... gift?"

"Yeah, Jasmine, gift. You know, Christmas?"

"Christmas?" she said in a small voice.

"Christmas. Yule. Same day as the ball we're practicing for?"

"Yule? Gift?"

Neville shook his head. "Oh, Jasmine. When I said you'd find all new mistakes to make, I didn't mean you should start _right now._ "

"Urk!" Jasmine's brain had by this point simply hung out a "Vacancy" sign and pretended not to be home anymore. She was in **soooo** much trouble...

* * *

 **A/N** : That last exchange was inspired by a similar exchange in another fanfic. Can anyone guess which one? Hint: the exchange is between Hermione and her mother.


	10. Jasmine's Little Helper

**A/N:** I wanted to point out something which I perhaps should have mentioned before, though many of you should be aware of it anyway because it is technically true of all or almost all fiction. **None** of the characters here are omniscient. This means that none of their perspectives qualify as the "whole truth." Some will come closer, of course, but even the best are still limited. This means that Jasmine's complaints about Dumbledore are just her perspective — there's a lot she doesn't know. Same is true about Hermione's opinion of her parents — she was a little kid when everything happened, so as perceptive as she is, she didn't know everything about their motives or behavior. You can generally assume that what you're seeing now may not be the final word on something.

 **Recommendation:** This chapter's recommended fic is "Of Loneliness and Chocolate Frogs" by 16pennies. Short, beautifully written "missing" scene from the beginning of second year, showing how important Ron and Harry are to Hermione.

* * *

 **Chapter 10 - Jasmine's Little Helper**

 **Monday, December 21, 1994, Morning.**

For most Hogwarts students, the first day of hols without classes is a time for celebration, or at least quiet relaxation. It's a time to enjoy life. For Jasmine Potter, it was a time to appreciate living because she wasn't sure how much of it she had left. She had forgotten to get a gift for Hermione Granger, her best friend and now also her girlfriend. To be fair, in all the terror surrounding the Triwizard Tournament, she'd forgotten to get any gifts. For anyone.

But it was her failure to get a gift for Hermione that was haunting her.

She wasn't afraid that Hermione would hex or curse her. No, far worse would be the look of profound disappointment she was sure she'd see on Hermione's face. And there was no way she wasn't going to take it personally, or as a statement about the importance of their relationship. After that emotional conversation about her parents, she realized that since Hermione had been denied caring attention for so long, it had become something she craved (though often with negative consequences, such as her habit of trying to show off to teachers by answering every question).

Right now, Jasmine thought that disappointing Hermione would be about the worst thing in the world. Not that the feeling was all that new, of course. _It was originally for her sake, after all, that I started studying harder and trying to do better in classes. I didn't want her to be disappointed in my grades. The Dursleys never cared, so I'd never had that before._ Ever since their first kiss, though, the feeling had been growing stronger, and this need to make her happy and show her the caring she desired was a lot more powerful than Jasmine ever would have imagined.

So that was that — she needed a gift. _What kind of gift do I need, though? I need a gift good enough for my best friend — a best friend who has helped me survive this tournament. Oh, it also needs to be awesome enough for my girlfriend — my first girlfriend on our very first Christmas together. And... it also needs to be amazing enough for a girlfriend that I just had a huge fight with but then made up with, like Neville said._

The more she thought about how spectacular the gift needed to be, the more Jasmine quailed. _I'm so buggered!_

It was still ridiculously early, but she realized there'd be no going back to sleep at this point. Trying to get dressed as quietly as possible, she realized that the first part of her solution needed to be to get away from Hermione. There was no way she'd be able to get Hermione an amazing gift while the girl was around.

Making her way down to the common room, she didn't notice the house elf cleaning up. Jasmine walked to the large fireplace and incanted " _ **Incendio!**_ " to start a fire and get the common room a bit warmer. She then proceeded to pace back and forth, muttering to herself as she quickly considered then dismissed one plan after another, each more ambitious and convoluted than the next. After considering a plan that required two hippogriffs, a box of nifflers, and a trained kneazle, then rejecting it because there was no way she'd be able to train a kneazle in time, and Crookshanks would never keep the secret, she threw up her hands and half-shouted, "Ugh! What am I going to do now?"

"Missy Jazzy? Is you being alright?"

"What?" Jasmine jumped at the voice, not having seen the house elf come up behind her. A house elf wearing an awful lot hats. Looking more closely, she realized she recognized this elf. "Dobby? Dobby! What are you doing here? I thought you were out and employed somewhere."

"Oh, Missy Jazzy, Dobby is employed! Dobby is employed by Hoggywarts! Dobby be cleaning common room, and finding many wonderful hats!"

Taking a closer look, Jasmine realized that the hats were familiar, too. "Are those Hermione's hats?"

"Yes, Missy Jazzy. Other elves refuse to clean here, say they not want to be tricked by She-Who-Knits, so Dobby be doing it all hisself!" The manic little elf looked to be over the moon with joy at having so much work to do alone.

"Well... great? Glad to hear it." _Better not tell Hermione where all of her hats are going..._ "When did you come to Hogwarts, anyway?"

"Dobby comes to Hoggywarts with Winky at end of November. Dobby starts working right away, but Winky be drinking too much butterbeer. Winky be sad that old master dismissed her, making her a disgraced elf."

Jasmine scowled at that. "Winky? You mean Barty Crouch's old elf? I don't think she's disgraced — Crouch is a nasty old man who didn't deserve her loyalty. I think she's a good elf. If there is anything I can do to help her, you let me know."

Dobby suddenly started wailing and grabbed hold of Jasmine's leg. "Oh, Dobby knew that the Great Mistress Jasmine Potter Ma'am was a great witch, but Dobby didn't know that the Great Mistress Jasmine Potter cared about _all_ house elves! Mistress Jasmine Potter is truly the greatest of all witches!"

The sobbing went on for nearly a minute before she had the heart to detach him from her leg. "Er, yeah. Great. Thanks, Dobby. I don't want to keep you from your job — sorry for interrupting. I've got a huge problem that I need to solve."

"The Great Mistress Jasmine Potter Ma'am has a prob—"

"Dobby!" Jasmine interrupted sharply. "What did I tell you about using so many names and titles with me?"

Looking sheepish, the house elf said, "Uh... not to?"

Hands on her hips and a stern look on her face, Jasmine continued, "Right. What are you allowed to use instead?"

"Missy Jazzy?"

Rolling her eyes because that really hadn't been her first choice, though she knew it was the best she'd be able to get out of her diminutive, one-time stalker, she answered, "Right. So continue..."

Still looking sheepish and obviously trying to rein in his enthusiasm, Dobby started again, "Missy Jazzy has a problem? Maybe Dobby can help? What can Dobby do?"

At first she was going to say no and dismiss the elf, but then Jasmine cocked her head in thought. She remembered how powerful house elves could be, and how determined Dobby in particular could be when in pursuit of a goal — especially a goal that involved his Missy Jazzy. _Maybe I shouldn't be so quick to dismiss his offer,_ she considered. _What have I got to lose?_

Looking down at the elf now quivering in anticipation, she told him, "OK, Dobby, here's the deal. First, this is all secret. No one can know anything I'm about to tell you. You are to say **nothing** about any of it without my prior say-so, OK?"

Dobby's eyes went wide. "Yes, Dobby keep Missy Jazzy's secrets!" He then snapped his fingers, and Jasmine felt a wave of magical energy wash over her.

"What in the name of Merlin was that?"

"Dobby keeps his mistress's secrets! Dobby put house elf privacy spell around us. Now no one learn Missy Jazzy's secrets!"

"Oh, well, good. Yes, good job." Jasmine was also reminded of how far Dobby would go in order to creatively interpret his orders or goals and was suddenly not so sure that she had nothing to lose by trying this. Not that she had many other options by this point. "Well, first, Hermione and I are a couple. As in, a dating couple."

Dobby's impossibly large eyes got even larger at hearing that. "Yes, Dobby, I know how wizards and witches feel about it when two witches or two wizards become a couple. That's why I need it to stay a secret." Dobby nodded his head vigorously in understanding.

"Second, I forgot to get Hermione a present for Christmas. So I desperately need a gift — but it needs to be a spectacular one. It needs to be a gift for a best friend who has helped me so much, for a new girlfriend on our first Christmas together, and more. It needs to be something she'll like, something she can use, something that will show her how much she means to me..." Jasmine collapsed into a sitting position on the floor in front of Dobby. "I am in so much trouble, Dobby. I don't know what to do. I have no idea what sort of gift would even come close to doing all of that, much less where and how to get it!"

Clasping his hands together, Dobby started thinking hard about what could be done. Then Jasmine noticed that his eyes started darting back and forth. _Shifty eyes aren't a good sign on anyone, but on a manic house elf...?_

"What is it, Dobby?" she asked. "What did you think of? What aren't you telling me?"

Still looking awfully shifty and suspicious, Dobby finally answered, "Dobby might be knowing of gifts to be had and Dobby be knowing of way to get them, but Dobby not be sure... Dobby not be sure if Missy Jazzy be _ready_ for that."

Getting up on her knees, she leaned forward, grabbed the house elf's head in both hands, and stared into his huge eyes. "Look at me, Dobby. I'm a desperate witch here. There's little that I won't do in order to get a good gift for my Hermione for Christmas. What do I need to do? What do you need? Do you want more socks? You'll get them. Do you want another house elf to have an accident so you get more work? Consider it done. Anything. Name it."

Jasmine had never seen Dobby looking so happy before as he danced around her — and considering how effusive he was when he was happy, that was saying something. "Yes! Dobby can do!" Standing in front of her again, Dobby said, "Dobby be thinking that Missy Jazzy already have gifts. Does Missy Jazzy know about Potter vaults?"

Jasmine blinked a couple of times at this apparent non sequitur. "Uh... yeah, sort of. I recently learned that there might be more vaults waiting for me than just the Trust Vault that I visit. But I don't know for sure if any exist and when I might be allowed to access them if they do."

Dobby started bouncing on his feet now. "Yes, there be more Potter vaults. Potter family be having more than gold, though. Potters be old family with lots of mistresses, and mistresses collect jewelry. Dobby be thinking that Potters keep jewelry in vaults, maybe?"

Jasmine sat back on her haunches, her mind buzzing with the possibilities. Neither she nor Hermione were big into jewelry, but they didn't hate jewelry, either. The more she considered it, the more she realized that jewelry might be just about the best possible gift because it would likely fit all of her requirements. It would certainly be better than a simple book... though, come to think of it, a vault might contain an old book that would be perfect, too. _Now I need to get into the vaults, or at least have Dobby get in..._

Focusing again on the house elf in front of her, she said, "You're a life saver, Dobby. Can you take me to a vault? Can you go into any vaults for me? What do we do?" Suddenly, the elf started looking shifty again. Leaning back, she continued, "What is it that you aren't telling me? What's the problem?"

Looking for all the world like he expected to get beaten, Dobby slowly started to explain, "Dobby cannot be entering Potter vaults. Only Potter elves can be entering Potter vaults. Dobby... not quite Potter elf."

Jasmine reflected for a moment and decided that it was a good idea that the vaults didn't let just any old elf enter them. She then narrowed her eyes as she considered the last part, "What do you mean, 'not quite' a Potter elf? I thought you were a free elf, employed by Hoggywar... er... Hogwarts."

Starting to sob, Dobby continued, "To be real Potter elf, Dobby must be binding hisself to a Potter, and then a Potter must be accepting the bond, linking Potter magic to Dobby's magic. When Missy Jazzy be freeing Dobby, Dobby become linked to Missy Jazzy — but Missy Jazzy not be accepting bond. So Dobby kept alive by the link, but Dobby not being allowed to be real Potter elf. So Dobby be staying weak and treated like disgraced elf."

Jasmine's head swam with all the information she'd just heard. She needed to be clear on this. "OK, Dobby, first things first: what do you mean that this link kept you alive? Would you have died without it?"

Tugging on his large, bat-like ears in frustration, Dobby said, "House elves needing magic from wizards and witches to live. When elf kicked out of family, they be needing new family or they go insane and die. When magical family be binding house elf, magical family getting servant, and house elf getting magic. Bigger families and more powerful wizards or witches mean more magic for more elves." _So, what_ , Jasmine wondered to herself, _they're like magical parasites?_

"Oh, no!" Jasmine moaned when some of the implications of this dawned on her. "That means that by trying to free elves with clothes, Hermione is trying to kill house elves!"

Very sadly, Dobby nodded his head in agreement. "Missy Hermy not house elf master, so she can't be freeing any, but she still be scaring elves. That's why Dobby be working here alone."

Jasmine would have to think about this some more, but this new information sounded like it changed everything, and Hermione would have to radically alter her goals with SPEW. She wouldn't like that. "OK, moving on, you have a partial bond with me. How did it form? Do you want it completed? If so, how do we do it?"

Now Dobby started looking excited again. "Dobby create link to Missy Jazzy when Dobby save Missy Jazzy that last time. Dobby was free elf then, so link was created. If Missy Jazzy be wanting Dobby, Missy Jazzy need be saying 'I take Dobby as my elf.'"

"Well, sounds simple enough. Are you sure you want to be my house elf, Dobby? I don't have a house or a family..." Jasmine couldn't say any more because Dobby had flung himself into her, tightly hugging her chest, saying "Yes! Yes! Dobby dream of being house elf for Great Mistress Jasmine Potter Ma'am! That be bestest job in all world! And Dobby be good elf for Mistress Hermy-own-nee Grangey, too!"

Sighing, Jasmine decided not to call him out on his use of extended titles and names again. "OK, we'll do it. Will all these hats be a problem?"

Stepping back, Dobby responded, "If hats be left out as trash or laundry, house elves not seeing them as being given clothes. Magic be based on intent, and so house elf magic not react if intent of wizard or witch not to dismiss."

"Hmmm... that makes sense," Jasmine responded. "You'd never be able to do a family's laundry if you couldn't pick up clothing that was lying around." Frowning for a moment, Jasmine continued, "But why did you get dismissed by Malfoy? He didn't intend to even give you my sock, never mind dismiss you?"

Dobby looked sheepishly down at the floor and said, "Dobby be spending many years with bad old master. Dobby often given contradictory orders, just to get Dobby in trouble. Dobby learning to... be _creative_ in interpreting bad old master's intent. Dobby thinks Dobby's magic changed, be more... _flexible_."

Jasmine had to smile slyly at hearing that. "I get it. I'd say I like it, but I'm not sure how that's going to work with you and me. You're going to need to be careful in how flexible and creative you are as my house elf. Those are perfect qualities for a friend who gets caught up in the adventures I have to deal with, but you can't let those qualities create conflicts with what I'm doing. Whenever possible, talk to me first before getting too creative."

Dobby nodded his head as he shook in excitement at the prospect of becoming Jasmine's elf.

Thinking hard for a minute, Jasmine continued, "In fact, that's my first rule. If you're going to be my elf, you've got to agree to some rules first. They are for my own peace of mind, and to ensure that Hermione doesn't kill me. OK?"

The house elf looked a bit nervous at what might be coming, but he readily agreed.

"So, first rule is to try to talk to me first before getting creative when doing something for me or anticipating my needs. Second, don't hold back on advice — I know far too little about magical society. Less than most wizards and witches and certainly far less than you. If you know something that might be useful, you're allowed to speak up. I don't consider you to be inferior, so it's not like I won't listen to your advice or don't want to learn what you know. Third, if you ever want to be free for any reason — like to bond with a different family — let me know. I think slavery is abhorrent and I won't feel like you're a slave if we both know that you can leave when you want."

Dobby was looking more optimistic now — these rules were strange compared to the rules in the Malfoy family, but they'd be easy to follow.

"Fourth, you need to take sufficient time off to rest and stay healthy. A tired, sick elf is no good. Try for at least one day each week — if not all at once, then spread out. Fifth, I'm going to be giving you money — call it a salary if you want or an allowance if you prefer. Use it to buy what you want — socks, wool to knit socks, presents for others, whatever. Sixth, in order to keep my secrets, you'll need to keep working like you have been at Hogwarts and you can't tell anyone about the change. Consider it one of my secrets that you have to keep. Seventh, once you leave here officially you'll get a uniform. It's not clothes, it's a uniform to show that you have an important job. You'll have a say in what it looks like, but we'll need to limit the colors."

Jasmine stopped at this point and thought a bit more, but couldn't come up with anything else. "That's it for now. I might think of other rules... or perhaps I should say, Hermione will. Oh, wait! One more! Eighth, you cannot punish yourself! If you think you've done something wrong, tell me. If I agree, we'll work out some sort of punishment. But you're not allowed to punish yourself on your own. That's my job. Now, I think those cover the most important points. Can you accept them? Can you be my house elf with those rules?"

"Oh, yes, Missy Jazzy, Dobby can do!"

"OK, then. Here we go." Deciding to improvise at the last second, because that's just the sort of thing she did, Jasmine suddenly reached her hands out and placed them both flat on the top of Dobby's head. "I take Dobby to be my house elf, to be my friend and to be a part of the Potter family."

Gasping, Dobby's eyes grew wide, and a magical glow surrounded both of the figures on the floor. "Wow," Jasmine said as she leaned back again after the glow dissipated, "Was that supposed to happen?"

Dobby, who was looking a bit taller, shook his head. "No, there rarely be bonding glow when accepting house elf bond. Dobby never see or hear of such large, bright glowing! The Great Mistress Jasmine Potter Ma'am be truly a powerful and wonderful witch!"

Looking at her watch, Jasmine said, "We should talk about that, but we don't have the time. What's next? What can you tell me about Potter vaults?"

Dobby started bouncing lightly on the balls of his feet and said, "Because of link Dobby knowing that vaults existed, but couldn't go there. Now Dobby can. Dobby can't be taking mistress past Goblin wards, but Dobby can go hisself!"

"OK, great. Since I don't know what's in the vaults yet, I can't tell you exactly what to get. So here's where you get to employ your powers of creativity. I'll tell you in general terms what I need, and you fetch items that you think will fit. You may need to travel back and forth a few times until we get it right. Can you do that?"

"Yes, Dobby can do! Dobby can do!"

Pulling the excited house elf closer to her, Jasmine started whispering, explaining what sorts of things she was looking for and why. Dobby just kept nodding his head. Apparently, the house elf bond helped him understand what his mistress wanted, and he was confident that he'd be able to fulfill all her desires, even those she didn't know about yet.

And there were oh so many things going on that Mistress didn't know about yet — but Dobby did. Dobby could _see_. And Mistress did tell Dobby that he could be _creative_...

* * *

 **Monday, December 21, 1994, Early Afternoon.**

Sitting down at a library table so she could write to her parents, Hermione stacked up some books around her to mask what she was doing and reflected that she was lucky that Jasmine was being so mysterious today. She couldn't immediately find the auburn-haired witch when she got out of bed that morning, and she only ended up seeing her for a few minutes at breakfast. During lunch, she had been completely absent. Hermione was desperate to know what she was up to — any time she was up to something in such a secretive manner, it boded ill for the rest of the castle — but right now, she needed to write home and didn't want Jasmine around, asking questions.

Hermione was a bit ashamed about that, actually. She still hadn't written to her parents to let them know that she was dating. It would have been embarrassing enough to have to admit to such a thing if she were dating a boy, but she wasn't sure how her parents would react to learning that she was dating a girl — even if said girl was her best friend, a girl her parents had already heard lots about and seemed to think well of. Perhaps if she'd had a closer relationship with her parents, she'd find it easier to predict their reactions. It might be easier to trust that they'd do the right thing.

 _Maybe they would be accepting of Jasmine and me,_ Hermione mused. _Their politics are fairly progressive, but I've never heard them say anything about homosexuality. They never said anything critical about Maggie's Section 28, and it was all over the news for quite a while before I came to Hogwarts. I also don't think they've commented on the Europride festivals that have been in the news the past couple of summers._

Hermione sighed in frustration. _Even if I could be sure that they would be accepting, this isn't something that I can announce in a letter. I'm not even sure that a phone call would be good enough! It will have to wait until summer._ Until then, she needed to be... _creative_ in what she would say.

After thanking her parents for the money they sent, telling them about the dress she bought, and eating a bit more crow over her earlier insistence that she'd never go to any such event, she went on to tell them generalities about what had been going on in the castle. As usual, she wrote at length about Jasmine and what Jasmine had been doing, though she found that she had some trouble not revealing too much.

Once her letter was completed, she moved on to her personal research project. She had examined all the books on magical marriage that she could find and was ready to move on to the next topic: sex. Although the thought of researching sex made her cheeks grow warm, she reminded herself that it wasn't so much the act that she was trying to learn about, but rather wizarding attitudes towards sex and sexual relationships. Since there weren't any books on sexual orientation, that seemed like the best topic to pursue.

Finding books on sex, though, was going to be tricky. She certainly couldn't ask Madam Pince — not after the suspicious looks she got when she asked about marriage! And there didn't seem to be any sections of the library devoted to it, which was hardly a surprise. Nevertheless, Hermione was convinced that there must be at least a few. She just had to hunt them down.

* * *

 **Tuesday, December 22, 1994, Early Morning.**

"Missy Jazzy! Missy Jazzy!"

Bleary-eyed, Jasmine awoke to find two massive eyes staring unblinkingly back at her from about two inches away.

" **Gah!** " Bolting upright and suddenly breathing heavily, Jasmine recognized the eyes as belonging to her new house elf, who was now looking frightened and worried.

"It's OK, Dobby, I'm not mad. Just startled. Please wake me a bit more gently in the morning." Looking around at how dark was, she added, "And, speaking of morning... is it morning? What the heck time is it, anyway?" Grabbing her watch, she saw that it was 3AM. Slumping back in exhaustion, she groaned, "And please, don't wake me so early if it's not an emergency. If it's an emergency, get me. If it's not, it can wait."

"Dobby be sorry, Missy Jazzy. Dobby go now and come back..." The elf raised his hand to snap his fingers, but Jasmine grabbed his wrist before he could complete the action.

"No, don't. I'm awake now. You might as well tell me, and then I'll go back to sleep. Just remember for next time, OK?"

"Yes, Missy Jazzy." Dobby snapped his fingers, and a medium-sized box appeared on the bed next to her.

Jasmine's eyes widened in excitement. "This is it?" she asked, "You got everything?"

"Yes, Missy Jazzy," Dobby said, just as excited himself. Yesterday the two of them learned that she did indeed have more vaults — two more, in fact. Well, technically they were Potter vaults. One was filled with money, and she wouldn't have access to it until she was of age. The second was for heirlooms and property. She had limited access to this. What she didn't know was that Dobby had had to be _creative_ in his explanations to the Goblins in order to get access for gifts. Jasmine wasn't allowed to take items out to gift them to just any old person, but for the right person, Potter family heirlooms could be made available.

For the rest of Missy Jazzy's friends, Dobby would have to use gold to make purchases in Diagon Alley.

So Dobby searched the vault to see what was available, then went back and forth several times so Jasmine could examine some of her options. Apparently, he had spent a good chunk of the night finalizing the selections.

Quickly sitting back up, she opened the box and pulled out the first item: a copy of _Hogwarts: A History_. Not the current Revised Edition by Bathilda Bagshot, but a 5th Edition of the original version published in 1208. It was the oldest one in the Potter vault and possibly one of the oldest editions still in existence. It didn't hold much interest for Jasmine personally, but she knew that Hermione would love it. It was her favorite book, after all, and this would provide more pleasure reading than any book on strictly academic topics like Runes or Charms.

Leafing briefly through the book, she took a closer look at the text and frowned. _Is this even English?_ she wondered. Well, Hermione would figure it out. She carefully closed the ancient tome and set it aside.

Next came a medium-sized jewelry box. Inside was a matching necklace and earring set. Made up of dozens of sparkling diamonds and sapphires, Jasmine knew that they would look gorgeous on Hermione with her periwinkle blue dress. Of special note was the presence of a few emeralds for contrast — Jasmine thought that they would serve as a small nod to her own green eyes, but not one which anyone else would recognize.

Finally, at the bottom, was the primary gift: a ring that Jasmine thought would be wonderful as a promise ring. At first she wasn't sure that the two of them were far enough along in their relationship for such a thing and so didn't want to call it a promise ring. _Merlin, has it really only been twelve days?_ However, when she explained the concept to Dobby, he seemed convinced that it was perfect for them. She decided to agree — she wanted to give Hermione this ring, and she wanted to give her a promise to go along with it, so she trusted Dobby's judgment.

Upon opening the box, though, she was confronted with a surprise: **two** rings. Two identical rings, each a silver Celtic knot encrusted with tiny gemstones. Looking more closely at one of them, she could see delicate peridot and pale blue topaz forming intricate green and blue bands intertwined around a central white diamond. They were exquisite.

"What's this, Dobby? I only need one ring, right?"

Bouncing on the balls of his feet, Dobby said, "Potter vault be having many rings and ring sets. This Potter ring be part of set — one ring for witch and one ring for wizard. But Missy Jazzy not having wizard to give wizard ring to, so Dobby asking goblins to reforge wizard ring into second witch's ring. Now Missy Jazzy be having two rings for two witchy witches: Missy Jazzy and Missy Hermy!"

Jasmine looked down again at the rings and felt a lump in her throat at how thoughtful the house elf had been. Encouraging him to be creative was turning out to be a good idea. "Thank you, Dobby," she said as she wiped away a tear, "you have no idea how much this means to me. There's no way I could have done as well myself — I'd never have thought of matching rings. You're the best, Dobby. You're the best house elf ever."

Reaching out, she pulled Dobby into a tight hug as he started sobbing, too. Both had spent years being abused and unappreciated by their families. They were kindred spirits, and in each other they found some of the love and appreciation they had always longed for.

* * *

On the next bed over, completely oblivious to the presence of Dobby or how it would soon impact her, Hermione was also awake. Unlike Jasmine, though, she hadn't woken early; instead, she hadn't even gone to sleep because she had stayed up all night reading the book she received from Minerva McGonagall. Yesterday's effort to search the library for books on sex had been a bust, and while she wasn't ready to give up entirely, she was also too impatient to wait.

So when she got to bed the previous night, she decided to reach for the only resource currently available: Pureheart's _The Power of Love_. Once she got started, however, she found herself unable to stop. One thing she discovered was that the book must have had some sort of expansion charm on it — she was certain that she had read several hundred pages already, but she seemed to only be a fraction of the way through. Somehow, the book had far more pages in it than should normally be possible.

While some students might become discouraged at such a discovery, it only served to excite the bushy-haired witch. She had never known that putting even more pages into books was possible and was delighted by the idea. Hungrily, she turned yet another page and read on avidly through the night.


	11. Love and Dancing

**Recommendation:** This chapter's recommended fic is "A Long Journey Home" by Rakeesh. One of the best FemHarry fics out there, it probably influenced both my choice of the name "Jasmine" and some of my characterizations. Jasmine Potter, the Girl Who Won, has had a much longer and more interesting life than her best friends ever realized. At the very least, read chapters 1 and 8!

* * *

 **Chapter 11 - Love and Dancing**

 **Tuesday, December 22, 1994, Late Evening.**

Hermione stayed up all night reading Pureheart's _The Power of Love: Love is Never Dangerous_ until late in the morning, then fell asleep with it on her chest and remained that way until nearly dinner. Fortunately she had spelled her bed curtains so only Jasmine could open them — this ensured that no one else caught her with the book, but allowed Jasmine to know where she was. It was a happy but especially frizzy Hermione who finally made her way down to dinner that evening.

"Hermione," Ginny started, a bit unsure about what she was going to ask, "I hope you don't take this the wrong way, but, uh, what happened to your hair?"

"I was wondering about that too," Neville added, "but I was worried about sounding like a prat for asking." Suddenly forced to duck as Ginny threw a crisp at him, Neville just grinned at her.

Sighing in annoyance, Hermione said, "I don't know. It happens sometimes that my hair gets even bushier and frizzier than normal. It doesn't seem to have anything to do with humidity — today, for example, it's not especially humid at all. Last night I didn't do anything different except for staying up late reading instead of practicing spell work as usual."

"It seems to happen more often when you get up from bed," Jasmine observed, "but I have seen it other times as well. I can't think of anything in common about it all, though."

Neville shrugged, not knowing anything about hair care except "wash, then dry." Ginny looked thoughtful and resolved to pay a bit more attention in the future. _I wonder if mum has any books at home that deal with common or even uncommon hair care problems_? she thought to herself.

* * *

At the end of dancing lessons that night, Hermione cautiously approached Jasmine and said, "Jas, I'd like to make a suggestion. But please don't freak out over it."

Jasmine was instantly on her guard, though she knew she shouldn't be. Consciously trying to relax, she replied, "OK, Hermione. I'll be calm. What is it?"

"Well," she continued, "I was thinking about how much you're benefiting from dancing here with Neville in the evenings, and it occurred to me... well... it's just... why don't we ask Viktor to join us for the last two evenings? I have to look good for the opening of the ball as well, and a little practice with Viktor would help me a lot. But I don't want to do it in secret. I want to do it here, with all of you, so he can meet you, too."

Jasmine looked into the face of her girlfriend, so obviously worried that her request would produce a bad reaction. She wished she could take the witch into her arms to reassure her, but she couldn't with Ginny standing right there, watching. Instead, she feigned indecision and looked over at Neville, who shrugged. She smiled, knowing that he was insisting that she make the decision, then turned to their ginger friend. "What do you think, Ginny?"

Ginny seemed to be surprised that her opinion was being asked for, but after only a moment's hesitation she said, "I don't have a problem with it. Might be nice to meet him, at least." She then added with a smirk, "It'll sure annoy Ron that he refused to practice dancing with us!"

Looking back at her girlfriend, Jasmine smiled and said, "I think it's a great idea. You're right, Hermione, you will be better off if you get in some practice with him. And it's also good for the rest of us to get to meet him. I know you two are only going to the ball as friends, but Neville, Ginny, and I ought to look him over to make sure he's worthy of that honor." Tapping her chin, she tried to look thoughtful and wise before adding, "I may have to brush up on my shovel speech, come to think of it."

Hermione's look of outrage was only half in jest as she proceeded to punch Jasmine in the arm. "You! Don't you dare! I'll have you know Viktor Krum is a perfect gentleman! I won't let you give him the wrong impression about us — this tournament is supposed to foster international understanding and cooperation, not give you an excuse to start an international incident!"

Laughing, Jasmine tried to hide behind Neville to escape Hermione's tirade. "C'mon, Neville, let's get your culture and tradition lesson going before Hermione ensures that I spend the Yule Ball in the hospital wing..."

* * *

 **Wednesday, December 23, 1994, Morning.**

Jasmine prevented Hermione from staying up all night reading again, successfully arguing that flipping her wake/sleep schedule like that would only end up causing her trouble in the long run. Hermione hated being denied the chance to once again read in private for several hours, but she reluctantly had to agree that it was better to halt the slide toward a nocturnal schedule now — she'd never get to classes when they restarted in a few weeks if she allowed herself to start sleeping all day and working all night.

As a result, she was awake and present in the Great Hall for breakfast on Wednesday, keeping an eye out for Viktor Krum. As he walked in, she was able to catch his attention and call him over.

When Viktor arrived at the Gryffindor table, Hermione introduced him to her three friends and explained how they had been practicing dancing since shortly after the Yule Ball had been announced. "I'm sure you're already brilliant at dancing, Viktor, but I thought it would be good if the two of us had some time to practice with each other. Since you have to open the ball as a champion, all eyes will be on you — well, on us I guess — so we want to look our best. Also, I thought it might be a good chance for you to get to know my friends a bit, including a fellow champion."

Looking back and forth between the four Hogwarts students, Viktor's ever-present scowl slowly morphed into a halfway neutral expression which Jasmine assumed might count as happiness. "Ja," he said to Hermione, "Sounds like goot idea. You tell me ven and vere, and I be there, ja?"

"Oh, thanks Viktor! It'll be ever so much fun. It would be easiest, I think, for you to meet me outside the Gryffindor common room at 8PM, and I'll take you there."

"Would you like to join us for breakfast, Viktor," Neville asked, "since you're already over here anyway?"

Viktor's face almost cracked into a smile at that before he sat down next to Hermione and started dishing up a plate for himself. The five students spent the rest of breakfast talking, laughing, and getting to know each other. Jasmine noticed that as time passed, Viktor's problems with English seemed to disappear. It was curious, to say the least — she wondered if anyone else had noticed, but she decided to hold her tongue and ask later when they all had some privacy.

All the while, a blue-eyed, blonde part-Veela watched from the Ravenclaw table. It had become clear to all that whatever disagreement had separated Jasmine and Hermione had been patched up. What was clear only to Fleur was that the bond between the two witches had changed. It was now stronger and more harmonious than it had been even shortly before the fight. Something had changed to not only resolve their argument, but actually improve their relationship.

She still couldn't tell what was going on, though. She was definitely going to have to write that letter home. The problem was in figuring out what exactly to say and how to explain her impressions.

* * *

 **Wednesday, December 23, 1994, Late Afternoon.**

Once again sequestered behind her bed curtains, Hermione started looking back over the notes she had taken from reading _The Power of Love_. There was still a lot to read, but she thought she had the gist of Pureheart's basic ideas. First, she argued that love is the most powerful force in the world and sex is a close second. Love unites on the emotional, psychological, and spiritual planes while sex merges the partners on the physical plane. When love and sex are brought together, their power is several orders of magnitude greater than either alone.

 _Worth remembering_ , Hermione thought, _though I don't know about holding classes on "The Power of Sex" in Hogwarts!_

Second, Pureheart argued that true love must be encouraged, even when it takes non-traditional forms. The more love there was in society, the better off everyone would be. Pureheart seemed to think that more sex would be good, too, because too many sexually repressed people walking around was a disaster waiting to happen. So long as the love and sex were consensual, she argued, they could only be constructive rather than destructive, regardless of what traditions or norms had to say.

 _Even muggles have recognized the positive benefits of a healthy sex life_ , observed Hermione as she checked her notes. _This sounds an awful lot like the 1960s slogan "Make Love, Not War," and the book was written much, much earlier._

Pureheart's arguments against the purebloods' rejection of non-traditional relationships were also easy to follow. The purebloods' main concern was that sex should only be for procreation in order to produce heirs. If a relationship couldn't produce heirs, or if it produced children with uncertain lineage, then that relationship should be banned as contrary to the needs of pureblood society.

 _But Pureheart says there's magic that enables procreation without sex,_ Hermione noted. _It's complicated and might take several attempts to succeed, but it_ _ **is**_ _possible. It's just not widely known — perhaps because so many purebloods don't want it to be common knowledge?_ So smart witches could still have children with each other, and those children would truly be the offspring of both witches. Hermione turned slightly pink at the personal implications of that, not sure if she should be thinking too much about such things.

Perhaps more important were the hundreds of pages of examples in which Pureheart demonstrated that not just love, but sex, too, could play an important role in magic. _Especially for witches,_ Hermione considered, _because apparently there's a lot of ritual magic that is essentially "feminine" in nature without any need for a masculine component. Pureheart speculates that this might be why ritual magic has fallen out of favor and labeled "Dark" at times — male leaders of magical society have wanted to suppress and demonize magic which they can't participate in or control._

According to the introduction to this section of the book, ritual magic worked best when performed while being mindful of the ancient gods or goddesses. Opinion was divided on whether the ancient gods and goddesses were real individuals, impersonal forces of nature, or something else, but there was no denying that the power of ritual magic could be greatly increased by invoking or at least respecting the appropriate deities.

Some of the magic and rituals which Pureheart described were beyond Hermione's ability to understand. Some of them made her cheeks flush scarlet — especially the accompanying illustrations. Detailed, moving illustrations. She had once found an illustrated sex manual in her parent's bedroom (under the bed, in a box, buried under clothes — she had been incredibly nosey, even at a young age), but that book had nothing on this!

She found it fascinating... perhaps too fascinating, as a matter of fact, because it was starting to give her ideas, and those ideas were distracting her. Hermione always wanted to understand the theory and history behind spells before trying them out practically: she was convinced that the better she understood a spell, the more likely she would be to get it right and the more control she felt she had.

When it came to ritual magic, however, she was experiencing strong temptations to try things out well before she fully understood the theory. The logical part of her brain desired understanding and control, but the rest of her, especially her body, was starting to demand something else. It was... _distracting_. She wasn't sure how she was going to learn all this if her body and hormones kept getting in the way.

 _And right now,_ Hermione lamented, _at this moment, my hormones seem to be winning..._

* * *

 **Wednesday, December 23, 1994, Evening.**

Still flushed from her earlier activity, Hermione stepped out of the Gryffindor portrait hole to wait for Viktor but found that he was already there. "Oh, Viktor! You're here. Am I late? I'm sorry! Were you waiting long? Did you have any trouble finding us?"

"No, I just arrived," he replied, amused by her nervous babbling, "And ve are both early."

"Good," Hermione said with a relieved smile. "Let's get going." Along the way they met Jasmine, who was waiting at a corner in the corridors. She pulled out the map, verified that they were alone, and led the others to the commandeered classroom where Ginny and Neville were already waiting. Along the way, she explained to Viktor that right after the drawing of the names from the Triwizard Cup, she and Hermione had chosen this classroom as a place where they could study and practice for the tournament. None of the staff had ever offered her anything, so they knew that they'd be on their own in their efforts to keep Jasmine alive. As usual.

Once in the classroom, everyone exchanged formal greetings. This surprised Viktor because he hadn't expected this sort of behavior from this group — it was more formal and refined than what he had seen even among the Slytherins, and they were deliberately putting on airs. He was especially surprised by the fact that Hermione, a muggleborn student, was both familiar and proficient with such customs.

"Really?" asked Jasmine when he told them this. "Sounds like we'll all be in good shape for the Yule Ball, then. The Slytherins shouldn't be able to complain that we lack the sort of culture and refinement that these types of events demand."

With that, Neville began organizing the dancing practice. The pairings were primarily Neville/Jasmine and Viktor/Hermione for obvious reasons, but since they had an odd number of people, Neville made sure there was plenty of switching to ensure that everyone got some time to practice. This also gave everyone experience with the customs surrounding switching off partners in the middle of a dance, and the boys got in practice with how to ask a girl if she would be willing to dance with them.

In a move worthy of a Slytherin, Neville at one point arranged to have Hermione paired off with Jasmine for some dancing. This thrilled the pair at first, because they sadly hadn't had any opportunity to dance together thus far; but it also worried them because there were two people present who didn't know their secret. They tried to laugh it off as a joke while still enjoying it while they could, but they weren't sure how successful they were.

Afterwards they invited Viktor to act as a sort of guest lecturer on magical customs and traditions. The Hogwarts students listed off the sorts of things they had already addressed and wondered what differences there were between Britain and Bulgaria. As it turned out, there weren't all that many — most were minor details that many people would scarcely notice, suggesting that magical communities in different nations had more in common than the students previously realized.

While they were getting ready to leave, Jasmine stepped up to address Viktor. "Say, Viktor, I hope you don't mind, but I have a question I'd like to ask you. It might be a bit personal, but I hope you'll answer it anyway." Hermione suddenly looked nervous, convinced that Jasmine was about to do something stupid and spark a war or something.

Before she could intervene, though, Viktor responded, "Ja, you can ask, and I'll answer if I can."

Smiling, Jasmine proceeded ahead, ignoring the plaintive looks and desperate arm waving from Hermione, who was standing behind Viktor. "All the time you've been here at Hogwarts, you've barely ever shifted your face out of a scowl, and you've struggled to express yourself in basic English. Tonight, though, your face has had dozens of expressions, most of them happy, and you've spoken English almost perfectly — just a bit of an accent, really. What gives?"

The others, including Hermione, stood there stunned at what Jasmine had said. Apparently none of them had given any thought to the differences in Viktor's behavior. The only ones not stunned were Jasmine, who stood there with crossed arms and a self-satisfied grin, and Viktor, who suddenly barked with laughter.

"Ha! Very gut! Ven did you first notice?"

Jasmine answered, "This morning at breakfast your English shifted a little during our conversation. I decided then that I wanted to ask you about it, but I thought it best to wait until tonight when we had some privacy."

Viktor smiled even more broadly before continuing, "Excellent! I vas vondering if anyone vould catch me. I vear a mask most of the time. I play what the Americans vould call a "dumb jock," a sports star with rocks in my head. Early on in school I found that many expected that of me. I tried to show them the truth, but my academic achievements were ignored, so I decided to play into their assumptions. I let people see vat they expect, and so people underestimate me. I still come in near the top of my class at Durmstrang, but hardly anyone notices. Over time, I have found that people tend to reveal more ven I'm around because of how little they regard my mind. I hide in plain sight and have a big advantage over opponents."

Neville, Ginny, and especially Hermione looked upon Viktor with far greater admiration and respect than they had previously. They hadn't exactly categorized him as a "dumb jock" before, but they also hadn't expected him to be an academic powerhouse — or to be such a sneaky observer of human nature.

"I'm extremely honored that you were willing to take off your mask for us," Jasmine said as she held out her hand. "I'm also honored to meet the real Viktor Krum."

He took her hand and shook it firmly, saying, "And the real Viktor Krum is honored to meet the real Jasmine Potter, not some fictional Girl Who Lived." Jasmine's smile got so wide that it threatened to break her face — she could count on two hands the number of people who treated her as "Just Jasmine" rather than as some mythical heroine. That Viktor could recognize the importance of this without having to be told was perhaps the most impressive thing he'd said or done, in her opinion.

Following Jasmine's lead, the others also stepped up to formally greet the "real" Viktor Krum, even Hermione. Viktor had already shown her more of the real him than he typically showed most people, but he still hadn't entirely taken off his mask for her before that evening.

When the group arrived at the portrait before the Gryffindor common room, Viktor bowed and kissed the hands of all three girls in turn. He then pivoted to address Neville, who made a great show of hurriedly putting both hands out of reach behind his back. With a quirk of a smile, the Bulgarian clicked his heels together and inclined his head; Neville grinned and made his own half-bow in return. "Thank you, all of you," Viktor said, "for a vonderful evening. I had more fun than any other time here at Hogwarts. I look forward to doing it again tomorrow."

* * *

 **Thursday, December 24, 1994, Morning.**

During breakfast on the morning of Christmas Eve, Hedwig swooped into the Great Hall carrying a letter and a tiny package. Instead of landing in front of Jasmine, as was her usual practice, she landed in front of Hermione. "Oh, Hedwig, do you have a response from my parents?"

 _ **Preck! Preck!**_

Untying the letter and package, she offered a rasher of bacon to Jasmine's snowy owl. "Thanks, Hedwig, I really appreciate this."

Looking across at his friend, Neville was curious about what she had received. "I get that that's a letter from your parents, Hermione, but what's with the little box?"

"Oh, we found these in Diagon Alley the summer before my third year," she answered. "They're self-shrinking boxes. My parents can't do magic, obviously, so they can't shrink or enlarge packages like I can. That makes it hard to send back and forth bulky things or larger quantities. These magical boxes, though, are perfect — just fill them, seal the lid, and they automatically shrink! Their weight is reduced proportionally, too. On the other end, you only need to take the lid off, and they enlarge with all their contents."

"Neat," said Ginny. "I'll bet they're popular with squibs and muggleborn. Most wizards and witches probably wouldn't think twice to apply their own shrinking and enlargement charms. Those charms are basic enough that even weak wizards and witches can do them easily."

"You're probably right, Gin," Hermione said. "Come to think of it, that's probably why these boxes were so cheap — not enough demand. Oh, well, I'm just glad that we found them. They've made sending things back and forth with my parents ever so much easier."

While her friends continued with their breakfasts, Hermione opened the letter to see what her parents had to say. After a few minutes she smiled sadly, put it away, and stood up from the table. Jasmine looked at her quizzically, as if to say, _Are you alright?_ Hermione shook her head. _I'll be fine, don't worry about it._

Looking at the others, Hermione announced, "This package likely contains Christmas presents, so I'm going to take it up to my dorm now. I'll probably be studying for the rest of the day, so I may not see some of you until dancing practice this evening. Bye!"

Hermione didn't quite run out of the hall, but she walked quickly enough to elicit some surprise from her friends. Jasmine suspected that her behavior was related to whatever her parents had written in that letter, and she resolved to ask Hermione about it when she got the chance. She also repeated her promise to herself to do something to improve Hermione's relationship with her parents.

If there was anything she could do to ensure that Hermione didn't lose her family, Jasmine was determined to do it. She knew how lonely life was without family.

* * *

 **Thursday, December 24, 1994, Afternoon.**

Once again, Hermione Granger attempted to learn from Pureheart's _The Power of Love_ without becoming too distracted. This time, she had a plan: instead of reading about all the magic and rituals which were clearly playing havoc with her hormones, she would focus on the history of non-traditional relationships in the magical communities. She hadn't had trouble with the argument and explanation sections of the book, so she was optimistic that she could deal with the history portion without having to take personal breaks for tension relief.

If anything, the history of non-traditional, loving relationships — especially those involving witches — turned out to be more fascinating than the arguments about the propriety of such relationships. _I had no idea that so many famous witches were involved with other witches!_ Hermione thought. _Well, technically I should say "were probably involved" since we have no direct evidence. If the evidence ever existed, it surely would have been covered up to prevent those witches from becoming the wrong sorts of role models. But the circumstantial evidence is so clear and obvious if you just look at it! It's a shame that we don't learn any of this in Binns' class, but I can't imagine that any of it would go over too well anyway._

Sadly, it seemed that the preference of so many witches in the past for the company of other witches had played a role in the development of witch hunts and anti-magic activity among muggles. _If those witches had settled down with wizards and conformed to what the muggles expected, they wouldn't have attracted so much attention to themselves or caused muggles to blame magic for their "indecency." It's sad that instead of celebrating and encouraging their differences when magicals separated from muggles, magical governments continued to ruthlessly enforce muggle standards of behavior._

Hermione stopped short when she realized the tragic irony of the situation. _The purebloods who hate muggles and muggleborn are also promoting an anti-gay policy which has no basis in anything other than old muggle prejudices — prejudices which led to the witch hunts that the same purebloods cite as a reason to hate muggles!_

She wasn't sure if she should laugh or cry at that. It made the persecution of gays and lesbians in the magical community even more stupid and senseless, but because of the tendency of wizards and witches to simply ignore whatever contradicts their preferred beliefs, she despaired at the possibility at getting any of them to even recognize the problem, much less change their opinions.

It all seemed so hopeless sometimes, but Hermione remembered that she wasn't alone in this. _Doing the impossible is what Jasmine is known for, and we need to make changes if she and I are going to have a happy future together. I_ _ **can't**_ _give up!_

It didn't occur to her how odd it would seem to an observer that she kept thinking of having a long future with Jasmine despite the fact that they had been together barely two weeks. By now, though, such thoughts were becoming so natural and automatic that she tended to accept them without question.

* * *

 **Thursday, December 24, 1994, Evening.**

The four Gryffindors and the Bulgarian champion couldn't be with their families on Christmas Eve, but they still had a good time dancing and enjoying one another's company. It wasn't as good as being home, but it was as close as they could reasonably make it.

Everyone felt like they had practiced enough for the Yule Ball, so the dancing they did was more for fun. Instead of the waltzes and other traditional music they expected to dance to at the ball, Neville tuned the Wizarding Wireless to a station playing Christmas music, and everyone danced to that. Hermione and Jasmine once again got pushed together as a dancing couple, trying to laugh it off as before while secretly relishing the opportunity.

Instead of the usual culture and etiquette lesson, Neville explained about magical holiday customs and traditions. Jasmine and Hermione were especially interested to learn how they compared to muggle holiday traditions, wondering how and when muggle and magical customs diverged. Viktor was able to contribute much more on this topic than he had been able to the previous evening — both Bulgaria and the region around Durmstrang had quite a few holiday traditions that differed from those in Britain. Ginny also contributed, describing a few traditions kept by the Weasley family which Neville wasn't familiar with.

All of those raised in the magical community wanted to hear about what muggles did, and Hermione was happy to oblige them. Jasmine was unable to offer much here — the Dursleys had forced her to work hard to make their own Christmas more enjoyable, for example by helping to prepare a large meal, but they never allowed her to participate in any way she might enjoy.

Sitting in a darkened cupboard, looking out through a small grate at other people having a good time, was no way to learn holiday traditions — or to appreciate the holiday at all, for that matter. This had caused Jasmine to approach the holidays with a degree of detachment and indifference which she had yet to entirely shed.

In the background, without anyone noticing, Dobby popped in with Christmas treats for refreshments: hot chocolate, gingerbread cookies, peppermint sticks, and more. Jasmine didn't know for sure that it was Dobby, but she had her suspicions. She kept those suspicions to herself, however, because she wasn't ready to have a conversation with Hermione about that — not yet, at any rate.

Much later, after everyone had gone to bed, Jasmine continued to toss and turn. Since she had never received any Christmas presents until recent years, anticipation for Christmas morning was still mostly a foreign concept to her. Here she was, though, unable to sleep because she was anxious and excited about the following day.

Not about the presents she might receive, however — she was excited about the gifts she had picked out for Hermione. She was also anxious for the same reason. Would Hermione like them? Would she accept them? These thoughts kept swirling around in her head, and it was late when Jasmine Potter finally succumbed to sleep, with visions of Hermione Granger dancing in her head.


	12. Christmas

**Recommendation:** This chapter's recommended fic is "Twas the Day Before Christmas" by apAiden, one of my favorite writers. Harry starts out with Ginny, but she gets unreasonable one time too often and Hermione has to step in to help him, which in turn helps her realize where her heart really lies.

* * *

 **Chapter 12 - Christmas**

 **Friday, December 25, 1994, Christmas Morning.**

"Happy Christmas, Jasmine! Happy Christmas!"

Blinking and bleary-eyed, Jasmine awoke abruptly to find two big brown eyes staring back at her from about two inches away.

" **Gah!** " Bolting upright and suddenly breathing heavy, Jasmine recognized the eyes as belonging to her girlfriend, Hermione Granger. _Whoa, deja vu_ , she thought.

"Are you **trying** to give me a heart attack?" she asked rather heatedly.

Grinning broadly, Hermione answered, "Of course not. I didn't think you'd want to sleep in on such an important morning!" Under Hermione's prodding, Jasmine had finally divulged a bit of her history with Christmas at the Dursleys during their discussion the previous evening. While she had obviously been reluctant to offer many details, Hermione had finally come to understand why the green-eyed witch had never gotten excited about the holidays. This was a situation she found unacceptable and was determined to fix it, now that she understood the cause. "C'mon, let's open presents and then go have Christmas breakfast in the Great Hall."

Sighing in resignation, she let her bushy-haired girlfriend — whose hair was especially bushy after just having gotten up — drag her over to her own bed where she had apparently stacked up the presents that had been left for each of them at the foot of their beds. "Now," she began, "in my family we usually hand out the presents to whomever is there and then take turns opening them. At least, that's what we do when it's a small group, like just me and my parents. When it's a large family gathering, everyone opens the gifts at the same time. What would you like to do?"

Jasmine had never had any real Christmas traditions — well, aside from slaving away all day then being tossed into the cupboard like an unwanted tool — so she was at a bit of a loss. Hermione patiently waited, though, and fought her innate desire to decide what to do and forge ahead. This was for Jasmine, so she needed to make the decision on her own. Finally, the auburn-haired witch said, "I think I like what your family does. So let's pretend like we're with your parents and take turns. Oh! But you have to open mine last. Please? Pretty please?"

Hermione smiled at that last comment — it wasn't something that a completely detached, indifferent person would say. Jasmine cared about what they did, and that was a good sign.

One by one, they each worked through their respective pile of presents. As in past years, their school friends generally gave sweets like packs of chocolate frogs, though Neville went above and beyond by getting high quality wand holsters for both of them. When worn they were invisible and would prevent wands from being summoned, but they would release the wands for their owners with a simple flick of the wrist.

As usual, Mrs. Weasley sent Jasmine her annual Weasley jumper which, also as usual, the young witch immediately put on. Her first Weasley jumper had been her first exposure to personal, hand-made Christmas gifts, and it was a memory she would always treasure.

One pleasant surprise was the presence of a gift for each of them from Professor McGonagall. Following instructions on the tags, they opened the boxes together and found a matched set of journals. According to the instructions, these journals were spelled to have an unending supply of pages, and to only open to the person keyed to the book with a drop of blood.

"Oh!" Hermione cried, "I never thought to get her anything!"

"Don't worry," Jasmine said with a smile, "I got it covered."

"What did you get her?"

Grinning now, Jasmine replied, "You'll have to wait and see when we see her next." Hermione wasn't pleased at being made to wait, but her girlfriend refused to spill any details.

Hermione's parents had sent her several gifts, and what stood out the most for Jasmine was the relatively impersonal nature of all of them: some clothing, warm pyjamas, a new brush set, some toys for Crookshanks, and some sort of dental care kit. The nicest gift was some fancy stationery, but even that stood out as odd because they only time Hermione would likely use muggle stationary was when writing letters back to her parents. So was it more for Hermione or for them?

The Grangers had also sent a gift to Jasmine, and that was most curious. Hermione watched intently as Jasmine tore off the wrapping paper — clearly she wasn't expecting it nor had any idea what was inside. Upon opening the box, Jasmine discovered a small photo album. That wasn't the real surprise, though: the real surprise was that it wasn't empty. The album contained dozens of photos, all of Hermione at different stages of growing up. Most even had labels with her age and the occasion.

"I didn't even know that they had this many photos of me!" Hermione exclaimed. "I don't remember either my mother or my father running around, constantly taking pictures like some parents do. They never struck me as the sentimental types."

"Most of these are candids — only a few are posed," Jasmine pointed out. "So I guess they were taking pictures when you weren't paying attention. Or maybe they got some from other relatives? Regardless, I wonder why they would send this to me and not to you. I can sorta understand sending it to you as a memento of your childhood, but why me?" Jasmine picked up the wrapping paper again and confirmed that, yes, it was for her. "You don't think it was a mistake, do you?"

"No," Hermione answered with a firm shake of her head. "My mother and father almost never make that sort of mistake — they are incredibly meticulous and careful in everything they do. They make **me** look sloppy sometimes. So you can assume that it's for you. But I agree, it doesn't make sense."

Jasmine then hugged the book tight to her chest and said, "Well, it's definitely mine now and I'm not giving it up. You look absolutely **adorable** in some of these photos. I love it! I'm definitely going to have to send a thank-you letter back with Hedwig!" Jasmine also started thinking of what else she might add to that letter, just to start paving the way to help her girlfriend with her parents.

Hermione looked at her like she was crazy, but turned back to her own pile and saw that she only had the three gifts from Jasmine left. "Well," she said, "it looks like all that's left are the gifts we got for each other. I'm afraid that I only got you one, so shall I open first?"

"Yes!" Jasmine nearly shouted, grabbing and thrusting at Hermione the gift that was clearly book-shaped.

"Hmmm..." Hermione hummed with amusement as she hefted the the package and proceeded to give it a shake. "I wonder what's in here..." Smiling happily, she pulled off the wrapping paper... and was rendered speechless. It was what she expected, and yet also not.

" _Hogwarts: A History_?" Opening the cover, she read: "Fifth Edition? 1208? Sweet Merlin, Jasmine, where did you get this? How much did you spend? How could you spend so much on me? You shouldn't waste your money on me like that! You know you mmmpppff!" Once again, Jasmine stopped Hermione's tirade by planting a firm kiss on her lips.

"You know, Hermione," she said with a smile, "we've already established a precedent for me responding to your babbling with kisses. If you keep it up, I'm going to have to assume that you're doing it on purpose because you **want** me to kiss you like that."

"Jasmine! Honestly!"

"Stop worrying about it," Jasmine insisted. "The book didn't cost me a thing — it's a family heirloom." Hermione opened her mouth to protest some more, but she was interrupted by Jasmine. "Yes, it turns out that the Potter family does have other vaults. Yes, one, is for heirlooms like this. No, I didn't tell you because if I had then I wouldn't be able to surprise you with this. No, I won't tell you how I got it — it's a secret that I'll share with you another day."

Hermione looked rather annoyed at that, but Jasmine added a little plaintively, "Please, can we just enjoy the gifts today?" That got a reaction, and Hermione looked a bit contrite over pestering Jasmine for details that weren't truly important at the moment. Her goal had been to help Jasmine learn how to enjoy Christmas, but here she was, being pushy instead of appreciative.

Caressing the book in manner that Jasmine thought looked a wee bit too... _intimate_ , Hermione said, "Thank you, Jasmine. Thank you so much. I can't wait to start reading this. It's a treasure. I'll bet not many copies of this even still exist!"

Jasmine smiled, "Good, I'm glad you like it. I thought that would be a pretty safe gift. Should I open mine, now? The other two there for you are sort of related, so it makes sense to open them together."

"OK, yes, do open it," Hermione answered, looking slightly nervous at what the remaining gifts might contain if they deserved to come **after** that book.

Unwrapping the gift from her girlfriend, Jasmine discovered... another photo album. Looking up, she said dryly, "Really, Hermione? A photo album? You're sure that you didn't coordinate this with your parents?"

"Yes!" Hermione said with some exasperation. "I had no idea that they would do that. If I had, I'd have tried to come up with something else — and they had no idea what I was getting you, either. I can't believe that my own parents — and probably my mother, specifically — would preempt my gift like that!" She was clearly annoyed, but Jasmine didn't mind. Flipping through her new, second photo album she found all sorts of pictures of her, Hermione, and their friends from the past three years.

"Don't sweat it, Hermione. Great minds think alike, right? This is a fantastic gift. And it's not really the same gift, since these are wizarding photos taken in a very different context. Where did you get them all?"

A bit calmer now, Hermione explained, "Most are from Colin. I got him to sell me copies of a lot of different photos he's taken over the past couple of years. I also paid him to take some new ones for this year. Finally, I was able to get a few from older students who I knew had cameras at different times. That's why there aren't many photos from our first year."

"You know," Jasmine said thoughtfully, "Maybe you and I should get a magical camera. Then we wouldn't have to rely on Colin and others."

"Oh, that's a good idea," Hermione said excitedly. "I hadn't thought about that. I never think about taking photos, but now looking at these two albums, I'm starting to see what I've been missing. We'll check Hogsmeade the next time we can go into town."

"Great," the auburn-haired witch said. "Now it's your turn. Open the larger one first."

Unwrapping the gift slowly, a bit nervous about what she might discover, she found what was clearly a jewelry case. Her head snapped up, eyes wide, but didn't say anything. With her hands shaking slightly, she flipped open the lid and saw the exquisite — and expensive — necklace and earring set.

Seeing that her girlfriend was not only speechless, but in fact barely able to breathe, Jasmine slid over next to her and started to explain, "I got these for you to wear for the Yule Ball tonight. They're all real diamonds and sapphires, with some small emeralds thrown in. I hoped you'd see the emeralds as a subtle link to me. I already know that you're going to be the prettiest witch at the ball, but I'm hoping that with these you'll stand out while everyone else is dull and colorless next to you."

Hermione had no idea what to say. She'd never had jewelry like this. In fact, she was pretty sure that her mother never had anything remotely like this either. She was no expert, but she suspected that the necklace might be worth as much as her parents' house. She wasn't sure she could or should wear something that expensive. "Jasmine," she started, "This is too much. I couldn't possibly..."

"Why not?" Jasmine interrupted. "Who else is going to wear them? They are Potter family heirlooms and there are no Potters left except for me. If no one wears them, they'll sit useless in a vault that no one ever enters. They are literally worthless to me if they are sitting in the vault — they were worthless to me last month when I didn't know about them, and they'll be worthless to me if you insist that I send them back. The **only** value they have to me is in making you look even more beautiful. So tell me, what should I do with them?"

Looking back and forth between the gift and the giver, Hermione finally said, "If these came from your family's heirloom vault, then they must have been important to your family at some point. Maybe very important. You should value them as a connection to your family, at the very least."

Jasmine had to consider that for a minute. It wasn't a factor she had taken into account — she had been focused on gifts, not links to family she never knew about. Hermione was right, though, which means that that vault might have lots of information for her. But that was a subject for another time.

"OK, Hermione, you may have a point," Jasmine conceded, "but unless I can find out who owned it before and why, then that link doesn't exist for me. And even if I do discover it, I think that I will place far more value on the connection it **creates** between you and me than on a connection it signifies between me and some long-dead ancestor. Remember, those people are complete strangers to me, and that won't be changed simply by knowing that some many times great-grandmother of mine received these for a birthday. So again, the real value for me lies in you wearing them."

Frowning, Hermione tried another approach, "What if I just borrow them for the evening?"

That this was a mistake became evident almost immediately as Jasmine started to pull back in on herself. "Do you... not like them?" she asked. "I just wanted to give you something nice. I've never had anything nice myself, much less had anything nice to give. Now that I do, I... I... well, I wanted to share it with you, because you're so much more important to me."

Hermione realized that she couldn't just refuse the gift, even though she also felt that it was far too extravagant. Deciding on what she thought might be a better compromise, she threw her arms around Jasmine and whispered, "Thank you. I do love them, I just don't want to feel obligated to you after receiving such a huge gift." Jasmine was about to protest, but Hermione stopped her with a kiss. "I know you won't feel like I'm obligated to you, but **I'll** feel that way. So let's do this: you give them to me as a gift, but you store them in your family vault for me. I'll feel better if they remain under your control, and my trunk isn't secure enough for something so expensive anyway. OK?"

Jasmine had to think about that for a moment, but finally she agreed. When Hermione looked down at the third and final gift, she felt more than a little trepidation. Having seen the quality of the first two, she was concerned about what might be behind door number three.

Instead of waiting for Hermione to act, Jasmine picked up the last gift herself and started talking, her nervousness showing through clearly. "Hermione, this gift is special. It's not even really a Christmas gift, it's something much, much more. It's about you and me. It's about how important you are to me, and how committed I am to making this relationship work. I know you've been a bit confused regarding your sexuality, but I think things are pretty good between us, and I know that it's going to get better."

Pulling off the paper, she ignored Hermione's gasp when the witch saw what was obviously a ring box. Jasmine opened the box, revealing two gorgeous rings. "These are two promise rings, one for you and one for me. Originally there was a wizard's ring and a witch's ring, but the goblins reforged the wizard's ring into a duplicate witch's ring."

Taking a deep breath, she continued, "I'm giving you your ring with a promise: Hermione Jane Granger, I promise I will treasure you, honor you, and respect you for all the days we are together. I promise I will listen to you, be honest with you, and work to improve myself so I can be the sort of witch you cherish and respect. And I promise that we'll work together to create a society where, someday, I can officially and legally put a much more significant ring on your finger."

After removing one of the rings, she set the box down and held the ring out with a questioning, expectant look on her face. It was all up to Hermione now. She could either accept or she could refuse. Jasmine was right that this was not a typical gift. This was a gift that came with a serious commitment — both in the offering and in the accepting.

Hermione, of course, took a few moments to think about what was happening. Despite being sorted into the house of the lions, she did not typically succumb to taking rash or hasty action.

Staring at the ring, she thought, _Am I ready for something like this? Merlin, it was only a few days ago that I even started to accept that I may indeed be attracted to girls! And it was only two weeks ago that I got my first kiss! Isn't this too fast?_

But then again, she had been with Jasmine for over three years now. _We've been together more and done more together than most dating couples… than most married couples, even. The_ _ **romance**_ _may be new, but the_ _ **relationship**_ _isn't, and maybe that's why I've experienced such a strong pull towards her over the past few weeks. Logic is trying to tell me that this is too fast, but every other fiber of my being is shouting at me that this is right._

She looked up from the ring and stared into the beautiful green eyes of her girlfriend, and suddenly all doubt fled her mind. She somehow knew exactly what the right thing to do was and without any further hesitation, she held out a slightly trembling left hand and waited as Jasmine slowly slid it on her ring finger. As they both watched, it magically resized so that it fit perfectly, and then immediately a warm, yellow glow surrounded both their hands as Jasmine's promise became magically binding.

Grabbing the box before her logic could interfere and cause her to chicken out, Hermione pulled out the second ring. Jasmine held her hand over it, though, and asked, "Are you sure? You don't have to do this."

"No, but I want to," Hermione said a little breathily, "I really do. And besides, what's the sense in accepting your promise without making my own?"

Holding out the ring, she took Jasmine's left hand in her own and recited the same promise Jasmine made as she placed the second witch's ring on Jasmine's finger. As with Hermione's ring, it magically resized until it fit perfectly. The same yellow glow also surrounded their hands as Hermione's promise became magically binding.

Hermione then held out her left hand, and the two witches looked at the two rings on the two hands, side-by-side.

As she was about to close the box, Hermione noticed a tiny corner of parchment sticking up from behind the ring mounts. Pulling it out, she discovered that it was a message from the goblin who had reforged the wizard's ring. "According to Silverflare, master metalsmith," she explained to Jasmine, "these rings originally came with several enchantments, all of which he restored to the reforged ring. They resize to fit our fingers, they can only be removed by us, they can be willed invisible or visible, they will never tarnish, they are highly resistant to damage, and they will never snag on clothing. For appropriate fees, there are more enchantments that can be added, like a warning for dangerous potions that are close to that hand."

Jasmine looked at her hand, and after scrunching up her face in intense concentration, she made the ring disappear. "Spiffy! Hey, I can still feel it — I just can't see it!"

Hermione did the same with her own ring, though with a lot less obvious effort. "Good thing, too. I don't think we'd have gotten away with wearing identical rings without raising some difficult questions. You know it would take Lavender or Parvati all of about five seconds to notice one of the rings, another three seconds to notice that we have matching rings, and one more second to start asking awkward questions."

"Uh, yeah," said Jasmine sheepishly. "Sorry. I didn't think of that. I was so excited about giving you a promise ring that I didn't consider anything else. Actually, it was only supposed to be a ring for you — the discovery of a second ring that could be reforged was a lucky accident. So I didn't plan that one out."

Not bothering to say anything in response, Hermione grabbed her girlfriend by the front of her pyjamas and started snogging her senseless. A bit later, when they were out of breath and more than a little disheveled, Jasmine remarked that that was easily the best Christmas gift she'd ever gotten, earning her a light punch and another long snog from Hermione, who seemed determined to improve on their previous experience.

During their explorations, the blue and green glows returned to their chests, with tendrils once again reaching out from each towards the other. Unfortunately, the glowing was never given the chance to progress further than last time: contact, but no more.

* * *

 **Friday, December 25, 1994, Early Christmas Afternoon.**

After finally managing to drag themselves down to a late breakfast, during which Jasmine sampled gingerbread pancakes for the first time and confidently declared them the Best Christmas Breakfast Ever, the Gryffindor friends were faced with an abundance of free time — time they didn't want to fill up with work, but for which they had no pre-planned activities. Remembering the newly fallen coating of snow she had spied out the windows earlier, Hermione dragged them all outside.

Jasmine had never had the opportunity to enjoy a snowball fight before Hogwarts (she didn't think it counted to get pelted by hunks of ice by Dudley and his gang) and had only had a couple of opportunities since. Hermione herself had never been a big fan, but she wanted Jasmine to relax and enjoy the day so she insisted — and when Hermione insists, it's tough for even the most stalwart Gryffindor to successfully resist.

Teams were formed, with Hermione, Jasmine, Dean Thomas, and a newly arrived Viktor Krum on one side and Ginny, Neville, Ron, and the Weasley twins on the other. Team Weasley (one of the twins charmed Neville's hair red, just so he'd fit in) had an advantage in numbers and in the twins' experience with pranks. Team Random (because no one could think of a name that fit them all) had power with Viktor, but Dean Thomas was the only one with much experience with snowball fights as a kid.

The advantage of numbers proved to be a challenge, but it was the advantage of pranks that was impossible to overcome. Someone had neglected to set "no magic" as a rule, and after a while the twins decided to put an end to things by levitating an entire snow bank over their opponents, only letting go when the foursome noticed the sudden shadow and comically looked up at their impending doom. Luckily Viktor was capable of rather powerful drying and warming charms, so no one froze solid, but the looks from Hermione and Jasmine promised painful retribution in the near future.

Begging off returning immediately to the castle, Jasmine and Hermione opted to take a walk and enjoy the winter scenery for a bit. They had few opportunities to simply act like a normal couple in love, and while even now they couldn't do things that other couples took for granted, like holding hands, at least they could pretend.

"The castle and grounds are beautiful with the snow, don't you think?" Hermione asked.

Sighing, Jasmine agreed, "Yes, and I think it would be almost sappily romantic for anyone else. It's so hard to hold back and not grab your hand or put my arm around you. Merlin, Hermione, how long do you think it will be before couples like us can walk around in public like anyone else?"

Pulling her arms tight against herself, whether to stave off the cold or to resist her own temptations, Hermione answered, "I don't know, Jas. But as long as we're together, I know we'll be alright."

Eventually they made their way back to the Gryffindor common room, where Ron asked Jasmine if she wanted to play a game of chess. It was Hermione who answered, though. "Can't, Ron. Don't have time. We need to go start getting ready for the ball."

"What?" asked Ron. "It's only 4PM. Why would you need four hours to get ready?"

"Yeah," agreed Jasmine. "Why do we need four hours? I didn't plan on starting until at least seven."

"Seven?" Hermione practically squeaked. "Jasmine, what's the matter with you? We have far too much to deal with! We have to shower. We have to shave. We have to pluck. We have to..."

At that point, Ron started quickly backing away. Putting his hands up against his ears and shaking, he said, "I don't want to know. I didn't hear any of that. Don't tell me, please don't say any more..."

Looking even more aghast, Jasmine said, "Pluck? Pluck what? Where? What do you have planned?"

Smirking now, Hermione grabbed her girlfriend's hand and started dragging her to the dorm. "Oh, Jasmine, I forgot that you've never had to prepare yourself for an event like this. And of course your dearest aunt never taught you about this sort of thing, either, did she? You have so much to learn and not much time to learn it in. I'm sure Lavender, Parvati, and the others might be willing to lend a hand to help, too. Maybe they'll treat you as their new project."

"Oh, no. No, please no. Can't we talk about this? Compromise, maybe?" Jasmine's pleading cries became more and more desperate as she was pulled inexorably towards the now ominous-looking door to the fourth-year girls' dorm. "Ron! Neville! You gotta help me here! I'm too young to be... to be... **PLUCKED!** "


	13. Get Ready: Yule Ball, Part 1

**A/N:** This is the shortest chapter out of all of those for the 4th year — the Yule Ball was simply too long for a single chapter and the best dividing point left this chapter a bit short.

 **Recommendation:** This chapter's recommended fic is "Inspected by No 13" by Clell65619. The "power he knows not" is... bureaucracy! Clell has written some hilarious fics and this is one of the more amusing.

* * *

 **Chapter 13 - Get Ready: Yule Ball, Part 1**

 **Friday, December 25, 1994, Christmas Evening.**

Neville Longbottom stood in the Gryffindor common room waiting for his Yule Ball date, Jasmine Potter. The two of them had chosen this as his waiting spot instead of down in the Great Hall because once Jasmine joined him, they would then watch for the entrance of Hermione Granger — the person Jasmine actually wanted to go to the ball with but couldn't because of magical society's bias against same-sex couples.

This would allow the three of them to walk to the Great Hall together, thus giving the two witches the chance to pretend that they were walking to the ball as a couple rather than merely as friends. It was a poor substitute for being able to enjoy an actual date, but the intense bigotry of magical Britain didn't provide them with many options.

Half an hour before the official start of the ball, Jasmine descended the steps from the girls' dorm wearing her blue dress. It fit her well, but she was sure that everyone could tell she wasn't entirely comfortable in it. When she had first put it on she kept tugging at it because of how it pinched in unexpected places. She probably never would have bothered getting a dress if Mrs. Weasley hadn't dragged her to Diagon Alley just before school started, though in retrospect it was probably for the best because she hadn't seen anything in Hogsmeade that she liked any better.

Jasmine's discomfort with wearing a dress was hardly surprising, since it was the first time she'd ever worn a real dress like this: the Dursleys had certainly never bought her anything like it and never would have taken her to a nice event regardless. She was at least lucky that as a girl, she hadn't been forced to wear nothing but Dudley's oversized cast-offs while growing up.

Feeling a bit self-conscious as she walked up to Neville and trying to be far more graceful and feminine than she usually managed, Jasmine smiled and said, "Hey. You're looking good — quite dapper, in fact."

After finally closing his mouth, Neville managed to regain the power of speech. "Wow, Jasmine, you look absolutely stunning. I don't think I've ever seen you look so good. You're certainly better than any of the other girls who have come down so far."

Unused to such compliments, Jasmine stared down at her feet and shyly mumbled, "Thanks."

Reaching down to the table next to him, he picked up one of the wrist corsages the girls had purchased from Magical Blooms in Hogsmeade. He had already ensured that Viktor had the second for Hermione. After he placed it on Jasmine's wrist, they both watched it for a few moments as it shifted to match the color scheme of Jasmine's dress. When he had first been shown the lilies, Neville was so fascinated that he became determined to figure out how it was done — and to eventually improve upon it. Given his flair for herbology and magical plants, his friends were looking forward to seeing the results.

"So, how are you feeling?" Neville asked. "Ready for the ball?"

Jasmine gave him a withering glare. "How do I feel? Plucked, that's how I feel."

Neville simply raised one eyebrow at that, and Jasmine continued, "And no, I don't mean that in a good way. I feel... plucked up. Plucked off."

"You're not going to let that go, are you?" Neville asked warily.

"Oh, hell no. I'm milking it for all it's worth. I figure I got until Sunday until it's completely worn out. I swear, Hermione is a menace with those tweezers! And then Lavender taught her this special witch's plucking spell! You should see how red my..."

"No!" Neville suddenly said in a panic, eyes going wide. "I don't want to know. I believe you, really I do!"

Grinning, Jasmine retorted, "Wuss. I went through a lot of pain and suffering to become your date. The least you could do is share some of it vicariously."

Narrowing his eyes, Neville held her gaze for a moment before saying, "Yeah? Well...pluck you."

"Ha!" Jasmine barked in laughter before clapping him on the shoulder. "That's the spirit!"

Ron jogged by while Jasmine was still laughing, and Neville called out to him, "Where are you going in such a hurry?"

Calling back over his shoulder while trying to smooth out his still-wet hair, Ron answered, "Gotta pick up my date at the entrance to Ravenclaw dorms." Just as quickly as he had appeared, he was gone.

"Do you know who he's taking as his date?" Jasmine asked.

"Nope, I only know that Ginny arranged it," Neville answered. "After you stormed out the other evening, she grabbed her brother and gave him a lesson on how to treat girls — with the lesson delivered at wand point, if I'm not mistaken. I think she might have left a couple of scars, too. He must have passed his lesson, because that was the requirement before she would set him up with a friend of hers. Apparently it's a Ravenclaw friend, but I have no idea what her name is."

"I guess we'll see her when we're down at the Ball, then," Jasmine responded. "Do you think he ever learned to dance?"

Neville grimaced. "You weren't around, but Professor McGonagall offered some basic dancing lessons to any Gryffindors who needed them. I didn't go, obviously, but I heard the stories from Dean and Seamus. She talked about young wizards being lordly lions waiting to pounce or something, and that made everyone nervous. Then she picked Ron to be her partner while showing everyone else what to do."

Jasmine's eyes grew wide at this, and she struggled to hold in her laughter. "Ron?" she asked. "What possessed her to do that?"

"I have no idea," Neville said, shaking his head. "Dean said that Ron went white as a sheet, and when he finally did join her on the dance floor, she had to physically move his hand to put it on her waist — he refused to do it himself!"

Jasmine couldn't hold back her snort at that bit of news, but Neville wasn't done. "Then, once he was in position, he barely moved! It was like he was frozen in place, looking at her like _she_ was the lion waiting to eat him!" Jasmine had one hand over her mouth and the other clutched tight to her stomach, holding in her laughs, when Neville suddenly poked her in her arm and then pointed up to the top of the steps that led to the girls' dorms.

When Jasmine looked, her breath left her in a gasp as she saw Hermione, who had clearly waited until Jasmine noticed her. The brunette witch stood there for a few seconds before slowly descending the stone steps. Although she had only ever attended formal functions with her parents a few times in her life, her mother had trained her well in how to move in a dress and heels, so Hermione's descent was done with far more grace and elegance than most girls of her age — and certainly more than Jasmine knew herself to be capable of.

The cascading ruffles created an enchanting effect as Hermione walked, and the jewelry which Jasmine had given her earlier in the day sparkled amazingly in the candle and firelight. Jasmine sucked in her breath and felt as though her heart must have stopped. For that short time while Hermione came down into the common room and approached her, nothing else existed in the universe — there was just her and the vision approaching her.

 _Merlin_ , Jasmine thought, _what's happening to me? I already knew what her dress looked like. I helped her squeeze into it! I was there when she tamed her hair and put on her makeup. I gave her the jewelry. Why do I feel like this is the first time I've ever seen her, even though I left her not a couple of minutes ago?_

Finally reaching her two friends, Hermione demurely said, "Hello." Neville returned her greeting while Jasmine simply gaped at her. Reaching out, Hermione placed a single finger underneath Jasmine's chin and closed her mouth with an audible clack. "Flies, luv."

Neville rolled his eyes and began to pull Jasmine towards the common room exit. "Let's go," he said softly, "before Jasmine makes a scene here in public by jumping you." Hermione laughed at Jasmine's ensuing pout, and once they were all outside in the corridor, Jasmine took her place in between the other two. This allowed her to hook arms with both — her official date on one side and her secret girlfriend on the other.

The three Gryffindors took as much time as they reasonably could to walk down to the entrance to the Great Hall where Viktor was waiting to be Hermione's escort. They knew that once they stepped into that public spotlight, Jasmine and Hermione would have to separate and stay separated unless they could find a place that provided absolute privacy. They weren't sure if that was even going to be possible, so they made a point of savoring what little time they had.

* * *

 **Friday, December 25, 1994, Yule Ball.**

Standing in the Hogwarts Entry Hall, Viktor Krum waited patiently for the arrival of his date to the Yule Ball. In the past there had usually been a lot of pressure on him during these sorts of events, both because he was a Quidditch star and because he wanted to make a good impression on whoever his date was.

This time that wasn't as much of an issue, though. He was still a public figure as both a Quidditch star and now the Triwizard Champion for Durmstrang, yet he didn't have the additional pressure of needing to impress the girl accompanying him. They were only going together as friends, and since he had gotten to know Hermione Granger fairly well, he was already comfortable with her.

He had been worried about being pressed by fangirls who wanted to date him...and then would want something more. In the past he occasionally indulged in such attention, but ever since getting engaged to his long-time girlfriend Yulia, he had worked hard to avoid temptation. Finding out about Hermione, the muggleborn witch who cared more about books than socializing and not at all about Quidditch, had been a stroke of luck.

Overall he had to count himself fortunate. Not only did it look like he'd be forming a decent friendship with her, but he seemed to be doing the same with her friends — including fellow Triwizard Champion Jasmine Potter. _Speak of the devil_ , Viktor thought to himself as his gaze moved to the steps leading into the castle's upper floors, _there the three of them come now. Interesting that they all have their arms hooked together — and that Jasmine is in the middle instead of Neville._

Viktor thought that Jasmine was quite the conundrum. She was famous as The Girl Who Lived yet seemed to shun attention. At first he had assumed like most everyone else that she must have cheated to get her name in the cup, but he soon changed his mind when he observed how much she disliked being a champion. He also grew to become outraged over how the school, both students and staff, had treated her — she didn't deserve that sort of harassment. He had considered saying something, but he hadn't thought it was his place. If nothing else, this tournament was giving him a low opinion of Hogwarts, Albus Dumbledore, and Britain.

"Good evening, Miss Granger," he said as he bowed to his date, hiding his shocked expression at the incredibly beautiful and expensive jewelry she was wearing. _I never got the impression that her family was that wealthy_ , he thought. Then, when he got a closer look at the necklace, he amended his conclusion, _No, that's all magical in origin — and from an old, wealthy family, too, I suspect. Where could it have come from?_

Viktor presented her with her own corsage and attached it to her wrist before offering his arm for her to take, noting the lingering look she seemed to give Jasmine, who remained at her own date's side. He'd been wondering about their relationship. He'd heard from conversations around the castle that the two were close friends who had been on some vaguely-described adventures over the past three years. _Sometimes, they seem to be closer than any other two simple friends I've ever known. Another mystery about Jasmine Potter, I suppose._

"Attention, everyone," came Professor McGonagall's brusque voice over the din of chattering students. "If you're a champion or a champion's date, come wait over here at the side with me. Everyone else, please make your way into the Great Hall and find a seat at a table." The volume of the chattering went down a little, but not much else happened.

"We cannot get started until all of you are inside and seated," McGonagall added more loudly, "so get moving!" That got people's attention, and the crowd started flowing out of the Entrance Hall and into the Great Hall. Soon the area was clear, with just the champions, their dates, and a few adults left behind.

"Champions," McGonagall stated as she approached their group, "once the others are seated it will be time for you to enter. Let's see... Miss Delacour, you will enter first with Mr. Davies, followed by Mr. Krum and Miss Granger, followed then by Mr. Diggory with Miss Chang, and finally Miss Potter with Mr. Longbottom. When you are announced to the guests, you are to enter the hall and make your way up to the table reserved for champions, tournament officials, and VIPs. After dinner is finished, the eight of you will go to the dance floor, where you will open the ball with a waltz."

Professor McGonagall looked at each of the students in front of her to ensure that they all understood her instructions so far. "Once that opening waltz is completed, the evening is your own. You'll have no more official duties — aside, of course, from upholding the honor of your schools by maintaining proper standards of behavior and decorum. Am I understood?"

All the champions and their dates voiced their agreement before the transfiguration professor finished up by saying, "Very well, I'll go into the Great Hall now to make sure that everyone is settled there. Listen so you don't miss me calling your names." McGonagall then turned and went through the doors into the hall, leaving the students alone for a few minutes.

Jasmine was pleased to note that even the older students looked a bit nervous — except for Roger Davies, who seemed a bit too... _focused_ on Fleur to be thinking of anything else. Jasmine wondered if he was starting to feel the effects of Fleur's allure. Now that she knew about it, she was sure she could detect the allure in the air when Fleur was close, but she hadn't had any problems with being influenced by it. _I wonder if my being able to perceive her allure is due to my preference for girls_ , Jasmine asked herself, _or if it's normal for girls to be able to sense it?_

At any rate, their obvious apprehension made her feel a bit less immature for being nervous herself. Guessing that everyone was probably too on edge to speak, Jasmine decided it was up to her to break the ice and chose a topic she hoped they could all relate to — and one that would make them all feel like they were on the same side. "Does anyone else find it odd that they didn't bother to announce this event until two weeks before it was to be held — and that they decided to hold it on Christmas Day, of all dates? How many students had intended to spend the holidays with family? They couldn't have done a better job if they were _trying_ to be deliberately inconsiderate and rude."

The others were shocked at the bluntness coming from the youngest champion, and even Fleur Delacour gave an unladylike snort. Only Neville and Hermione were unfazed, the latter even rolling her eyes, because they were getting used to Jasmine's refusal to put a filter on her mouth when she was annoyed. She had never been good at expressing emotions, but ever since she and Hermione had started dating, she had become bolder at expressing her opinions — usually when she was feeling stronger emotions like anger.

This time her bluntness worked out because everyone there was in agreement. Viktor and Fleur hadn't made plans because of the inconvenience of travel, but both said that they would usually have important family gatherings on this day and would have been quite upset if they had had to cancel their plans at the last minute. Cedric Diggory, Cho Chang, and Roger Davies did originally have plans to go home, but fortunately their plans had been easy to change.

All, though, knew of other students who hadn't had it so easy. Some chose to deal with the hardship and stay because they figured the Yule Ball was a unique opportunity. Others gave up the chance to attend, choosing instead to honor family commitments. None of them expected any complaints they might make to be taken seriously.

Before the conversation could proceed any further, they heard Professor McGonagall announce the first couple, "Beauxbatons Champion Fleur Delacour, who is escorted by Hogwarts student Roger Davies."

As the two departed, Jasmine found herself looking around at the remaining couples and at Cho Chang in particular. She wore striking silver dress robes with an unusual Asian design, and Jasmine had to admit that they suited her. As she admired the dress, she didn't notice that Hermione's eyes had narrowed at how long Jasmine spent looking at Cedric's date. Suddenly they heard, "Durmstrang Champion Viktor Krum, who is escorting Hogwarts student Hermione Granger," and when Jasmine looked over at her girlfriend, all she saw was the bright smile that appeared on Hermione's face.

A few moments after they left came the next announcement, "Hogwarts Champion Cedric Diggory, who is escorting Hogwarts student Cho Chang." Jasmine felt bad that Cedric had to share the spotlight as Hogwarts Champion with her. As much as she was suffering from this, he was being harmed as well. _Hufflepuff rarely enough gets this kind of positive attention — they don't deserve to have it diverted to me_ , she thought, and not for the first time.

After a few more moments, and lots of nervous fidgeting from Jasmine, she heard the announcement for her: "Hogwarts' second Champion Jasmine Potter, who is escorted by Hogwarts student Neville Longbottom."

Looking at Neville, who seemed even more nervous than her, she said, "Chin up, Nev. Here we go!"

Walking into the Great Hall was like nothing Jasmine had ever experienced. One moment she was outside the doors, the next moment she had passed through them and into a veritable wall of sound, lights, smells, and other sensations. There was so much going on that she felt like she was going into sensory overload. It was only by sheer willpower that she was able to keep her feet moving forward. Neville, whose arm she was holding ever more tightly, didn't seem to be handling the experience any better.

By the end she was starting to feel a little dizzy from all the sensations, but finally they made it to the champions' table. Being the last couple there, they didn't have any choice about where to sit, which meant that Jasmine would be forced to endure the presence of Ludo Bagman on her right while Neville was stuck with Barty Crouch on his left. Neither Jasmine nor Neville expected scintillating dinner conversation from these two and would be trying to forget that part of the night as soon as possible.

Hopefully the rest of the ball would be a little more exciting...


	14. Ballroom Blitz: Yule Ball, Part 2

**Recommendation:** This chapter's recommended fic is "Harry Potter and the Afterlife, Inc." by dunuelos. Not only is it one of the better responses to Reptilia28's challenge, but it was actually completed!

* * *

 **Chapter 14 - Ballroom Blitz: Yule Ball, Part 2**

 **Friday, December 25, 1994, Dancing.**

After the Dinner-Which-Must-Not-Be-Remembered, Jasmine joined the other champions and their dates as they made their way on to the dance floor. This was the part of the evening that she thought she would be most nervous about, but as she got into position with Neville, she realized that she was far calmer than she had anticipated. It was then that she understood how much the practicing and preparation had helped her.

She had already danced numerous times with Neville, and many different kinds of dances, too. Sure, this time she was doing it in front of quite a few people who didn't like her and would have been happy to see her fail, but they didn't matter. All that mattered were her friends — her surrogate family — some of whom were already out on the dance floor with her. Smiling broadly to Neville, she said with more confidence than she expected to feel, "We'll be fine, Nev. We've done this so much already that we could do it with our eyes closed if we wanted."

"Easy for you to say — you don't have to lead," Neville said under his breath. Still, the Longbottom heir stood up a little straighter, gripped his date a bit more firmly, and as the music began he moved confidently into the dance steps he'd come to know so well.

They'd had some trouble when first practicing together because Jasmine had been reluctant to let him lead her around. It wasn't that she didn't trust him; it was just that she preferred to be in control of where she was going. Having to move backwards based upon the directions of someone else simply didn't sit well with her, no matter who it was doing the leading.

They'd gotten over that, of course, and while they were by no means experts, they were certainly competent. Jasmine found that she actually enjoyed the dancing, at least a little bit. There was plenty of space between the couples, so she didn't have the impression that she was hemmed in by masses of students. Feeling like she was surrounded bothered her — it was a legacy from many days in her past when she was ruthlessly hunted for sport by her cousin and his gang.

Most of the time she could manage her reactions when surrounded, like when maneuvering in the busy corridors of Hogwarts, yet she was in control of her own movements then — a crowded dance floor was a different matter. And while the practice sessions had hardly been teeming with other couples, Jasmine had felt a sense of dread come over her when thinking about what the real ball would be like.

When it became obvious during the dance practices that she was nervous about something she didn't want to talk about, Hermione had to browbeat her into explaining her fears and then browbeat her some more into telling Neville. She had been right, of course, but that didn't make Jasmine any happier about it at the time.

And before she knew it, the opening waltz was over. She had been so lost in her own thoughts that she had hardly noticed the time passing. Apparently her dancing had gotten good enough that her body was able to carry on with the task without her mind needing to be fully present.

"Back with us, then, are you?" Neville asked with an amused glint in his eyes.

Smiling for all the people now applauding the champions and their opening dance, she answered, "Sorry, got distracted thinking about various… issues. Did I miss anything?"

"You mean, aside from my magnificent dancing skills? No, nothing of great importance," Neville replied cheerfully. Jasmine was pleased to see that he'd grown enough in confidence to talk back to her like that. It was one of the things she had appreciated about Ron — he was never afraid to speak his mind.

Grinning back, she said, "Shall we continue?"

"Indeed we shall, m'lady," he responded. They took their positions while the dance floor filled with students, and they started moving with the music once it resumed. It was certainly more difficult to dance in a crowd — Jasmine could see it in Neville's eyes. Not only was he responsible for keeping them from crashing into other couples, but since her revelation of her fears he seemed to take it upon himself to also keep a second eye out for potential trouble and a third eye on Jasmine herself to make sure she was OK. By Jasmine's count, that was at least one eye more than Neville had been born with.

Pushing down the anxiety that had been slowly building, she tried to smile warmly. "Thanks, Neville. I appreciate what you're doing for me. For us… everything that you're doing."

A little startled by the sudden thanks, Neville needed a moment to focus his attention on her words. "Uh, sure. Yeah, you're welcome. You two can always count on me. What brought that on all of a sudden, though?"

"I already knew that what you were doing for us wasn't easy," Jasmine explained, "but a moment ago I could see how much active work was being required from you right now. We should sit the next one out so you can rest." Neville wasn't that tired or stressed, but he didn't decline the offer. They both knew that they'd be stopping primarily for her, not for him.

* * *

Walking off of the dance floor, they noticed Viktor and Hermione had already appropriated a table, so they decided to join the couple. "You wanted to take a break, too? It was getting too crowded and hot for us," Hermione stated as soon as they arrived. "At least with Viktor being taller than most, he was able to prevent us from bumping into too many others."

"Neville was doing a great job, too," Jasmine added with a smile. "But you're right, it's almost oppressive out there. Hopefully it will clear out a bit after a few more songs."

"Is that Ron sitting over there alone?" Neville asked. Hermione and Jasmine had to crane their necks to see where he was pointing, but both agreed that it was Ron. "I wonder why he's alone — last I saw, he was rushing off to meet his date."

Conversation turned to general observations about the decor and food of the ball, and the two couples were soon joined by Ginny and Dean. "Tired? Or did the crowd get to be too much for you?" asked Hermione.

"A bit of both, frankly," Dean answered. "Ginny was more annoyed by the crowd than I was, but I think it's because she dances better and knows more about what we **would** be doing if we had more space. Me, I don't know enough to be annoyed." This was all said with a grin, showing that the Gryffindor boy wasn't bothered that his date knew more about dancing than he did and that he was having a good time anyway.

"Say, Gin, is that Ron over there alone?" Neville asked the new arrival. "We were wondering about that a few minutes ago because we saw him leaving Gryffindor tower to meet his date, but so far we haven't seen anyone with him."

Standing up to get a better look, she saw that it was indeed her brother and immediately started searching around for his date. After looking for a minute without any luck, she turned to face the dance floor and stopped, then slowly sat down. "Oh, dear," she said.

"Vat's wrong?" Viktor asked.

"Well," Ginny answered, "I found his date." Trying to point without being too obvious about it, she directed their attention to a waifish blonde girl in a strange silvery dress that was decorated with numerous flowers. She was dancing, though it wasn't a dance any of them recognized. It certainly wasn't the formal sort of dance one would normally do with the music being played. She was moving her arms and legs in a vaguely stylized fashion, as if she were dancing to some music or rhythm that only she could hear.

"Is… is she alright?" Hermione asked, not sure what she should say about the sight in front of her. It seemed that other students were equally bewildered, judging by their attempts to keep some distance between her and themselves out on the dance floor.

Ginny sighed and tried to explain. "That's Luna Lovegood, a Ravenclaw in my year. She lives near my family in Ottery St. Catchpole, so we've known each other since we were both little. It probably won't come as much of a surprise that many people refer to her as "Looney" Lovegood. Luna is… different. Unique. Eccentric. All those words fit, but they don't fully describe her, either."

Taking a sip of her drink while trying to figure out how to continue, Ginny finally said, "I'd say that you have to experience her to understand, but I've been experiencing her for years and I **still** don't understand. I just accept her as she is because she's incredibly sweet and nice. You'll never find a more gentle soul, but not everyone can deal with her oddities. Unfortunately, I think she's being bullied by others in Ravenclaw, but I don't have any proof, and she doesn't want to get them in trouble. Or perhaps I should say, she doesn't want to make trouble and risk the bullying getting worse."

Only Hermione noticed the tightening in Jasmine's face, a sure sign there'd be hell to pay if a sweet, gentle girl was being bullied. Hermione could only hope that she'd be able to channel Jasmine's reaction into a form that didn't produce significant injuries or property damage. Trying to at least distract Jasmine for the moment, she asked, "Do you have any idea why she is… well, this way?"

Her expression growing sad, Ginny answered, "Luna was always a little strange, and I think it was because her parents were a bit odd themselves. Then, sometime around when I was eight or nine, Luna's mother was killed. It was some sort of accident while she was developing a new spell, I think. I never knew all the details, but I did find out a couple of years later that Luna was there. She watched her mother die. After that, she grew more and more bizarre."

Bringing the conversation back to its starting point, Neville asked, "So, what's up with Ron being alone? Do you think he's annoyed that his date is eccentric?"

Frowning, Ginny said, "I'm not sure. It's not like his date was a surprise — he knew Luna from before and knew he'd be escorting her. I even warned him in advance, just in case he didn't remember her well enough to understand how odd she can be. Maybe he didn't listen, as is often the case." With that, she quickly downed her drink and said, "Sorry, Dean, but I'm going to need a few minutes with my dear brother. Granted, they aren't an actual couple, and I set this up both so that she would be able to come and so that he wouldn't be pathetically dateless, but that doesn't mean that he's allowed to **completely** ignore her. I'll be back as soon as I can."

"Not a problem, Ginny," Dean said. "I share a dorm with him, remember? I know what he's like."

Giving him a smile that was a bit more of a grimace, Ginny turned and stalked over to where her brother was sitting. He didn't see her approach, otherwise he'd have probably gotten up and made a break for it. Instead, she was able to trap him at the table, where she proceeded to give him a bollocking worthy of their mother.

Noticing that the crowd on the dance floor had thinned a bit, Viktor stood and with a bow to Jasmine asked, "Vould you care to dance?"

* * *

Out on the dance floor, Viktor began blinking rapidly as they were assaulted by the sudden flashing of cameras. "I never get used to camera flashes," he groused. "Should have expected they vould vant many pictures of us dancing together, but I didn't expect them to get to this part of the dance floor so qvickly."

"True enough," Jasmine said ruefully. "I can see the headlines now: The Girl Who Lived Swept Off Her Feet by Bulgarian Bon Bon."

Viktor almost choked in horror. "Bulgarian Bon Bon? Vhere do you get such things?"

"Oh, it's not my invention, I'm sorry to say," Jasmine answered. "I heard it as part of some rumor about you. Girls' Network, you know. I may still be ostracized by a lot of the students in this school, but I continue to pick up things."

Snorting in annoyance, Viktor said, "Girls' Network, huh. Despite my best efforts, that is one group I cannot eavesdrop on. Even with my mask, they talk in whispers and giggle if I get too close."

"Yeah, well, don't get your hopes up of sneaking into that information stream," Jasmine said with a smirk. "You'd look awful in a wig and skirt." The shock of that image caused Viktor to miss a step in his dancing, which gave Jasmine no small amount of amusement. Just because she didn't want to be at the Yule Ball didn't mean that she wasn't going to try to have a little fun where she could.

When the next dance number started, they were greeted by Neville and Cho Chang, who had apparently joined them on the dance floor. Viktor and Neville bowed to each other before switching partners, and then the two couples began to spin off in different directions. As she was dancing by with Cedric, Hermione thought she saw Jasmine's eyes once again linger on Cho for a bit longer than seemed appropriate.

"When we turn in that direction again," Neville said to Jasmine once they got started, "look back over at the table we were sitting at."

Jasmine did as he said and was surprised to see what looked like Luna Lovegood sitting there, talking with Dean. "Is that...?"

"Yep," Neville said. "We saw Dean wave Luna over when she walked off the dance floor. We thought it might be to distract her from whatever Ginny is saying or doing to Ron. It's a nice gesture, especially if her oddness makes her as difficult to deal with as Ginny said."

Jasmine frowned when she was reminded about that particular issue. "I hate the idea that a sweet, gentle girl might be being bullied by others because she's different. And in Ravenclaw, no less! I wouldn't be so surprised if it were Slytherin — that house does prize a certain amount of ruthlessness as part of promoting ambition. Ravenclaw, though, is supposed to be about intelligence, wit, academics, and scholarship. At worst they should only have an excessive focus on books and studying, not cliquishness and bullying!"

"Well," Neville tried to answer while still doing his duty to keep an eye on things, "I suppose that just because you're in Ravenclaw doesn't mean you're immune from other human flaws. I take it you have plans? Maybe plans that involve bloody retribution or something along those lines?" There had been a time when Neville thought that Jasmine was a fairly reserved, sweet girl. He had been disabused of such notions after learning about what she'd endured in her life — and he was still convinced that he hadn't heard everything. On top of that was the way she had been growing more brash ever since she and Hermione had gotten together; he had no idea what to make of that.

Jasmine snorted at the question. "Not exactly, though I'm not ruling it out, either. First, I'd like to get to know her — I want to find out if she really is being bullied. From what Ginny said, that might be hard. I also want her to know that she can come to me for help or safety. I hope I'll be able to include Hermione, Ginny, and you in that commitment?" Neville nodded vigorously at that. "Then, if there are any bullies, we do something to them."

* * *

Later, all three couples found themselves sitting again at the same table. Ron and Luna were out on the floor dancing, and while Ron didn't look too happy, Luna looked absolutely ecstatic. Ginny had explained the facts of life to Ron — in particular, the fact that his life depended on doing the proper thing for the girl he had escorted to the ball and actually dancing with her, even if only a few times. She must have done an effective job at channeling Molly Weasley because he had fetched Luna from Dean's company before the next dance had even started, and they hadn't sat back down since.

Other than having to deal with minor nuisances like Ron and photographers, all six students had had a good time at the ball so far — a better time than most of them had expected, in fact.

Unfortunately, a much larger and more persistent nuisance picked that moment to make himself known.

"Hey, Potter, I should have known that the only date you could manage to get was a pathetic squib. I guess that's why you didn't need to pay — when you're with a squib, even a halfblood like you manages to be magically dominant."

Malfoy seemed to think that his comments were pretty witty, and the chuckles from his sycophants — Crabbe, Goyle, and Parkinson — helped reinforce that image he had of himself. Jasmine, though, saw an opportunity to use some of what Neville had been teaching the group every evening. Even better, she could do so in a way that would highlight how crass Malfoy tended to behave.

"Why, Mr. Malfoy, I'm frankly surprised at you," Jasmine drawled. Pleased to see the look of confusion on his face, she continued, "It sounded for all the world like you might have been insulting Neville Longbottom, heir to the Most Ancient and Noble House of Longbottom. I'd like to point out that his family is recorded as having practiced magic in Britain **centuries** before the Malfoys crossed the channel as peasants imported by Norman invaders." If the red that was suffusing Malfoy's face was any indication, he knew she was right and was incensed that she had the gall to say any of it aloud.

"In fact, if I'm not mistaken," Jasmine turned to Neville at this point as if to get confirmation, "the Longbottom family can be traced back to Vikings who settled in northern England in the early 9th century." Neville nodded casually.

Turning back to Malfoy and his cronies, she continued, "That was quite a long time before the French peasants decided to stick their overly large noses into our business in England. So you see, you're in no position to be insulting the magic or heritage of a family far older and nobler than your own will ever be. **If** that was what you were doing — which I'm sure you weren't, given the ramifications to your family honor and fortunes from issuing such insults. Am I correct, Mr. Malfoy?"

The red in Malfoy's face suddenly drained to a stark white as his brain caught up to his mouth, and he realized that there were indeed potential consequences to insults like those he'd just made. _Funny how he never seems to think about the consequences of his actions_ , Jasmine thought sourly.

"N-no, Miss Potter. Certainly not," he stammered.

"Very good. I'm glad to hear that. Run along now, go play with your little friends. Your presence is no longer required," Jasmine said to dismiss him, just before turning her back and completely ignoring him. Shaking a little in anger at being treated as if he didn't matter, Malfoy stormed off with his minions trailing along behind. Off to the side, she thought she could see Mad-Eye Moody grinning.

"Wow, Jasmine, where'd all that come from?" asked Dean.

"Oh, it's all thanks to the lessons I've been getting from Professor Longbottom here," Jasmine said with a warm smile at Neville.

Neville blushed a little at the praise. "Thanks, Jasmine. I couldn't put him in his place without looking worse. Something like that is best coming from someone like you — someone whose family has a similar status." Turning to Dean, he explained, "Defending your family by pointing out how old and titled it is may be a legitimate response to insults, but it's also regarded as incredibly crass. It's like a person who goes around bragging about their Quidditch successes all the time — their words may be true, but that's not the sort of person you want to spend time with, right?"

Dean nodded in understanding, so Neville continued, "But someone **else** can defend you by pointing out how strong you are or how old your family is. That's not socially inappropriate, at least if done properly. Also, the more significant the family of the person who does so, the better it is, because it doesn't look like they are trying to benefit by sucking up to you. Hermione could defend me, for example, but some could interpret that as her trying to get into my good graces. Viktor wouldn't be seen that way, however, regardless of his family background because he's so famous in his own right."

"That all makes sense," Dean said slowly as he thought about it, "but it also sounds awfully complicated."

"You're right, it is," Hermione said as she joined the conversation. "Even the strangest customs or traditions among British magical purebloods make at least some sense once they are explained in context, but few are what I'd call obvious. That means you need instruction in them to even begin to fit in."

"It's a good vay of keeping outsiders excluded," Viktor said. "People who aren't raised in the culture never feel totally at home, and those who try to stay vill always be recognizable. It's simply a more subtle and deeply embedded expression of the overt bigotry you see from children like Malfoy. Most probably don't even realize vat is happening."

The previous happiness at chasing Malfoy away had now been replaced by a somber mood. Everyone was seeing how difficult it would be to ever make magical Britain more open to groups like muggleborn when the very fabric of its customs and traditions served to keep them out.

"It's starting to get a bit stuffy in here," Jasmine finally said. "I'd like to take a walk outside. Anyone want to join me?"

* * *

Ginny and Dean chose to stay inside and go back to dancing, so only two couples went out to stroll through the enchanted garden. Jasmine started out walking beside Neville, the two talking further about wizarding culture, whereas Hermione and Viktor chatted in low voices about something Jasmine couldn't quite hear. Somehow, though, the girls ended up walking together with Neville between them and Viktor. If Viktor thought it was in any way odd, he didn't say anything, though Neville did seem to be doing a good job keeping him distracted by talking about Hogwarts.

During a lull in their conversations, heated voices were heard from a nearby path. They couldn't make out the exact words because of how the plants muffled the sound, but Viktor recognized one of the speakers. "That is my headmaster, Karkaroff. Who vould he be arguing vith?" No one had any answer to that, so they quietly made their way around a corner to witness a heated exchange between him and Professor Snape.

Whatever the subject was, neither looked happy, but Karkaroff looked far more upset and agitated. Finally he stormed off in the direction of the Durmstrang ship while Snape walked away from them towards the castle. The conflict on Viktor's face was clear to everyone.

Hermione spoke up first. "Viktor, I take it you want to follow him to make sure he's okay?"

Sighing, Viktor said regretfully, "Ja. I don't like him much, but I do have obligations to him as my headmaster. I cannot easily ignore something like this."

"Go ahead, then," Hermione responded. "We'll be fine. I know it's a bit early to end the evening, but this is important too."

"Don't worry," Neville added, "I'll see that they both get back into the castle safely."

"Thank you," Viktor said with relief evident in his voice. Turning to Hermione, he took her hand and bowed to kiss it. "I had a delightful evening dancing and talking with several new friends. Thank you, Miss Granger, for accompanying me. I hope we can do this again some time."

With a curtsey, Hermione responded, "I had a lovely time dancing and talking with you Viktor. I know we all enjoyed your company, in fact, and I hope we'll all be able to continue spending time together. Thank you for inviting me."

After a click of his heels and another short bow to the others, Viktor quickly made his way in the direction that Karkaroff left. Turning towards her girlfriend, Jasmine said impishly, "I'm sorry your date had to leave early, but I can think of some benefits to the situation." Hermione smiled back and moved a bit closer.

"Uh, I hate to interrupt," Neville broke in, "but this is a bit public. Why don't you go to that dark corner over there, and I'll stand here as a lookout."

Jasmine beamed in appreciation at Neville while Hermione simply grabbed her hand and pulled her over to the darkened corner of the garden path. They barely had time to stop and face each other when once again, raised voices came to them from a nearby path. "Really?" asked Jasmine in a disappointed tone. "Are we going to do this all night?"

Before anyone could answer, they saw Madam Maxime of Beauxbatons storm by, clearly upset about something. "We should leave," Hermione said, "before Dumbledore comes out to have a tantrum, too."

All three Gryffindors made their way back into the castle, though as none cared to continue dancing, they didn't bother returning to the ball. Jasmine and Hermione walked next to each other, occasionally brushing hands and arms, while Neville accompanied them a discreet distance away. It wasn't much privacy, but he wanted them to have whatever he could offer.

* * *

None of them were aware of the pair of blue eyes watching them walk up the stairs. Stepping out of the shadows in a corner in the Entrance Hall, Fleur Delacour considered what she was witnessing. She had noticed the way they walked together, and how they sat next to each other when taking breaks from dancing. During dinner, they kept looking at each other more than at their dates.

None of this needed any explanation beyond their friendship. Mere friendship, however, would not explain the powerful magical connection she could sense between them. Most of the time, she could only liken it to a kind of music, and the volume seemed to be growing. The melody also seemed to be growing more complex.

When she was closer to them, like at the dinner tonight, she felt like there was more than music going on — more than melody and rhythm. What she felt was power: enough power that at times she was sure she could almost see it arcing between the two witches. No one else noticed anything, though, so unless her senses were playing tricks on her, it had to be something that only veela could detect.

It wasn't much, but Fleur felt like she now had enough that she could write to her family in France. Hopefully her maman and grandmere would understand what was going on and could advise her. Before, she only wanted to write so they could help her satisfy her curiosity. Now, though, she was concerned: she could feel and see the power being exuded by those two witches, even though no one else seemed able to. She wasn't sure what it meant, but that much power could be dangerous — especially since it looked like it was growing, too.

 _Yes_ , she thought, _I'll have to send out a letter first thing in the morning._

* * *

Far away, in a town called Little Hangleton, a short, dumpy man sat morosely in an old, dilapidated manor house. _I used to believe that there was nothing worse than spending Christmas alone_ , he thought. _Now I know better._

Peter Pettigrew had spent many Christmases alone. Many of those times he'd felt sorry for himself, but now he looked back on those days with wistful nostalgia. They may not have been his best days, but they were far better than what he was enduring now. Worse yet, he had no one to blame for his current situation but himself.

"Wormtail," came the screeching from that… that… _thing_ in the other room. "Wormtail, come milk Nag… **AAARRRGGGHHHH!** "

The short, dumpy man slowly rose to his feet, wondering for the umpteenth time how long he'd have the strength to endure this. That thing he served had been experiencing more and more of these episodes of pain, followed by weakness, over the past couple of weeks. Of course, he was always the one punished for it.

"Happy Christmas to me..." he muttered to himself as he trudged into the other room to do his master's bidding.

 _"_ _ **Crucio!**_ _"_


	15. Master and Servant

**A/N:** To the best of my knowledge, muggledad is the first and only fanfic writer I've seen who has Voldemort use the royal "We," which I am doing as well. I agree with muggledad that that sounds like something Voldemort would do.

 **Recommendation:** This chapter's recommended fic is "He's Mine" by Romantic Silence. It's a curious and slightly darkish story in which Hermione is pleased that she's the only one who believes in Harry after he's forced to participate in the Triwizard Tournament. It's short and quick to read.

* * *

 **Chapter 15 - Master and Servant**

 **Saturday, December 26, 1994 - Boxing Day, Early Afternoon.**

Jasmine and Hermione had left the Yule ball before it ended at midnight, but they had stayed up late anyway, talking and cuddling in Hermione's bed. They hadn't wanted the night to end, but they had no easy options for spending time together as a couple, and this had been all they could come up with.

Thus it was a bleary-eyed Jasmine and Hermione who made their way down to the Great Hall for lunch, which for them was effectively breakfast, in the hope that some food would help wake them up. They saw many students who were in a similar state, and more than a few who seemed to be worse. Neville and Ginny were nowhere in sight. Jasmine assumed that she and her girlfriend would end up in the library for studying once lunch was done, but instead she was dragged all the way back up to the seventh floor and into their training room.

Once there, and after the map was checked, Hermione silenced and sealed the door, pushed Jasmine into a chair, took a chair opposite for herself, and regarded Jasmine with a stern expression. "Right," she started, "you promised me an explanation for how you learned about and accessed your vaults. The fact that you didn't tell me before — not even a quick version — means that it's complex, it's dangerous, I won't like it, or all of the above. So we're not leaving here until I get the full story. Now give."

Jasmine groaned inwardly. She didn't dare let it show, however, lest it give the tenacious witch across from her even more ammunition. _I knew this conversation was coming_ , she thought to herself, _I_ _ **knew**_ _it. I should have prepared myself already — I just didn't think it would come so quickly. First thing the day after! Talk about pushy..._

Sighing, Jasmine began, "You're right that you're not going to be happy. **But** ," she added, raising her finger to silence Hermione before she could interject, "I'm going to ask you to hear me out first, just like you asked me when you wanted Viktor to practice dancing with us. I was calm, remember? And that turned out alright in the end. Do you think you can do the same?"

"Well, when you put it that way..." Hermione grumbled. At Jasmine's look, she added, "Fine, fine — I'll be good. What is it?"

"Thank you. My first confession," Jasmine began, "is that I forgot to get you a gift until the last minute. In fact, I forgot to get any gifts at all until the last minute. In my defense, I'll just point out that I've had a lot on my mind for the past month or so..."

Hermione snorted in amusement at the understatement. Taking that as encouragement, Jasmine continued, "Then I got lucky and met Dobby in our common room. He's been working at Hogwarts and told me he was very happy. However, I also learned that not everything had been going well for him. And it turns out I was partly to blame."

Shocked, Hermione asked, "What's wrong? What did you do?"

"Well, the problem was that I freed Dobby at the end of second year. That act of generosity on my part could have killed him."

"What?" Hermione asked in a louder voice. "How?"

"According to Dobby, house elves get magic from the family they are bonded to. House elves are magical creatures and need magic to survive, but they have little of their own. So without a bond, a house elf will slowly deteriorate mentally and physically, eventually dying. That's why my freeing Dobby could have killed him."

Hermione was horrified. "Oh, no — it's not just Dobby, is it, but all the house elves that I've been trying to free? I could have killed them!" She jumped up and started pacing in her agitation. "Have any died yet, do you know? Can the effects be reversed? Can I donate my own magic? What do we do, Jasmine?"

Pleased that this was going better than she had feared, but worried because Hermione was being a bit too passionate now, Jasmine grabbed her fellow Gryffindor and firmly put her back into her chair. "Don't panic, Hermione. You haven't done nearly as much damage as you think. Probably none at all, in fact, except to your reputation. The Hogwarts house elves are safe, but they aren't happy with you. We'll get to that later."

Relieved, Hermione said, "OK, fine. So what about Dobby? Why is he still alive? I assume that he found somebody to bond with, but that can't be the whole story, or else you wouldn't be making a big deal about this."

Smiling at Hermione's powers of deduction, Jasmine went on, "Exactly. Yes, he bonded, but not completely. He created a partial bond with someone — just enough to keep from dying, but not enough to help him the way he needed. He didn't explain it to me in detail, but the impression I got was that he's been living with something like a serious, chronic illness for more than a year now. It's been hard on him, I could tell; yet despite that, when we met he was as cheerful as ever."

"Oh, my." Hermione exclaimed, "But who would he have created a partial bond with? Who would have been unable to... you! Did he partially bond with you?"

"Right again," Jasmine answered. "Once I learned all this, I basically had two choices: cut the partial bond that was keeping him alive and hope that he could find another solution in time, or complete the bond so he could be made healthy and whole once again. Leaving him with a partial bond would have been cruel, so I didn't even consider that."

Thus far, Hermione's reactions had been pretty much what Jasmine had hoped for: instead of blurting out, "I bonded Dobby to me," which was sure to result in an explosion, she started off with "unbonded elves die," which was sure to elicit sympathy. It might be a bit manipulative, but it was still the truth. If presenting the truth in a favorable order helped keep Hermione from getting unnecessarily upset, Jasmine was all for it.

And Hermione was definitely looking conflicted. "Are you sure that bonding with a family is the only way for house elves to have enough magic to survive?" she asked.

"Well," Jasmine answered, "it seems there is one alternative, and that's to bond with an institution like Hogwarts or the Ministry of Magic. There's enough magic in such places to give them what they need. They're not always as happy that way because most prefer being part of a family rather than an impersonal organization, but they can survive."

Hermione had to think about that, and she spent a minute going through all the possibilities and permutations. In the end, she sagged in her chair in defeat. "You bonded Dobby to yourself, didn't you?" It was more a statement than a question.

"Yep," Jasmine answered, popping the P. "Was I wrong?"

Grudgingly, Hermione conceded, "No. And you were right — I'm not happy. It's not the ideal outcome, but I guess that it may have been the best decision."

Now it was Jasmine's turn to sag in her chair, in relief this time. "Good, I was worried about that. This is exactly the issue where you've reacted most rashly. Your passion about wanting to free the elves is great, but you probably should have done more research before acting." Jasmine paused for a moment to consider before continuing. "If it'll make you feel any better, I think Dobby may be one who prefers a personal connection. When he explained all this to me, he started acting kind of... shifty, like he was angling for something. I didn't understand it at the time, but I think maybe he was hoping I'd ask him to become my elf. I mean, he could have bonded with Hogwarts and been at full strength for the last several months, yet he chose to maintain a partial bond with me instead. I know this isn't what _you_ wanted for him, but I think it's what _he_ wanted for himself."

Jasmine glanced over at her girlfriend, who didn't say anything. The bushy-haired witch still looked sullen, but maybe now she was... _thoughtfully_ sullen. Jasmine shook her head and sighed. "Anyway, who knew that house elves were magical parasites, like tapeworms?"

Hermione was horrified. "You take that back! They are not tapeworms!"

"What?" Jasmine asked, surprised by Hermione's sudden anger. "They sound like parasites..."

"No!" Hermione said forcefully. "Parasites only take, but apparently house elves give back in exchange for what they take. They're clearly symbiotic creatures, not parasites. Honestly!"

"OK, OK, sorry," Jasmine mumbled, feeling thoroughly chastened.

Hermione scowled a bit, then moved on and asked, "So what about my reputation with the house elves? You mentioned something about that?"

"Oh, right," Jasmine said. "Well, they don't like you much. Even though you couldn't free them, since you aren't their master, they still recognized that you were trying to free them. From their perspective, that's like someone trying to kill them." Hermione winced at that. "So they all but abandoned the Gryffindor Tower to Dobby. He's been doing all the work and taking all your hats. He loves them. In fact, when we met that morning I described, he was wearing a dozen or so of them."

Jasmine paused and suddenly became very interested in picking at a mark on the table, prompting Hermione to ask, "What else? All that is bad enough, but what else is there that could make you that uncomfortable?"

"Uh... they've been calling you names," Jasmine said, refusing to look at the other witch.

"So?" Hermione said. Then, after a moment, added, "Wait, what sort of names?"

"According to Dobby, there are two that have become common," Jasmine said. "She-Who-Knits and The Dark Seamstress."

Hermione let her head hit the table with a resounding thump. "Yeah, they really don't like you much," Jasmine said.

After giving Hermione a few moments to process that, Jasmine continued, "I have good news and bad news. Let's start with the good news. I gave Dobby a bunch of rules to ensure that he's treated well. Things like pay, time off, he can ask to be released, that sort of thing. Oh, and he can't go beating himself up if he thinks he's done anything wrong. I hated watching him do that when he was a Malfoy elf. He knows that as his mistress, only I can set his punishments. We can go over the rules later to see if I missed anything."

Hermione looked directly at Jasmine at this point, crossed her arms, and raised one eyebrow.

"What?" the auburn-haired witch asked.

"Really?" Hermione drawled.

"What?"

Smirking, Hermione continued, "Mistress is in charge of punishments, is she? What have you been doing with that poor elf?"

Upon realizing the implications of her earlier words, Jasmine's eyes widened and her face flushed scarlet. Unable to articulate any complete words, she just spluttered while Hermione looked at her knowingly. Finally, she managed to get out, "Bloody hell, witch!"

"Language," Hermione chided with a smile. "And you're right, we will have to talk about that later. Now, what's the bad news?"

Once Jasmine could form coherent thoughts again, she asked, "Do you remember Winky?"

Hermione had to stop and think for a minute, then it hit her, "Barty Crouch's elf? The one he dismissed at the World Cup?"

"Yeah," Jasmine said. "She's here at Hogwarts, but she won't bond with the castle. She's one of those elves that wants a family. She can't accept working for an impersonal institution — like Dobby, she needs the emotional bond, not merely the magical bond. She's going downhill fast, getting drunk on butterbeer. She needs to bond with someone or she'll die."

Realization dawned on Hermione's face as she figured out what was going to be asked of her. "Oh, no. You can't possibly expect me to... why don't you do it?"

"Really?" Jasmine said, imitating Hermione's drawl from a minute before. "If it's so wrong for you to do it, why would it suddenly be OK for me to do it? Do you think I'm that horrible?"

"No," Hermione said, suddenly embarrassed. "I didn't mean to imply..."

"Yeah, well, you did," Jasmine said sternly, "But there are more important things to consider. First, I already have an elf bonded to me. Elves like work. They _need_ work. I don't have enough work to give one elf, let alone two, but Dobby loves me so much that I think he'll be fine. Second, I know that you still want to improve the lives of elves, and while you can't do it the way you wanted — by just freeing them all — that doesn't mean that you won't figure out some other way in the future. However, I don't think your chances are good unless you understand elves first. What better way to understand them and their concerns than to be bonded to one?"

Hermione was taken aback by that argument. It seemed so counterintuitive at first — learn how to free slaves by owning a slave? But when she thought about it, she realized that Jasmine had a point. House elves were different enough from humans that she couldn't make too many assumptions about them. She would need to learn everything she could, and that meant going beyond books. At the very least she had to live with elves; unfortunately, being bonded to an elf would probably work best. If nothing else, she could take heart from knowing that Winky could be the first elf freed, if she could figure out how.

Finally, after debating back and forth with herself several times, she gave in. Partially. "Very well, I'll think about it. You're probably right, but I don't want to make a decision right away. And I'll want to talk to her first to see what _she_ wants."

"That's fine," Jasmine replied, relieved. "Dobby!" With a loud pop, Dobby was suddenly standing there in front of the two witches.

"Missy Jazzy! Missy Hermy! What can Dobby do?"

At the unexpected exclamation of "Missy Hermy," Jasmine winced and Hermione frowned — she hated to have her name mangled for the creation of nicknames. Just as she was about to scold the eager house elf, however, the rest of what she'd just heard caught up with her.

Cocking an eyebrow at her green-eyed girlfriend, she said, "Missy Jazzy?"

Rolling her eyes, Jasmine responded, "It's not what I would choose, but it's better than what he wanted to use."

"And that was?"

Sighing, Jasmine turned to Dobby and said, "Why don't you tell her what you'd prefer to call me. Just this once, I'll let you use it."

Looking like he'd been given a lifetime supply of socks, Dobby jumped up and down and started singing, "She be The Great Mistress Jasmine Potter Ma'am, The Bestest Witch in Whole World!"

It started with just a snort, but Hermione's reaction quickly devolved into a full-on belly laugh. Once she regained control over herself, she returned Jasmine's glare with a smirk and said, "Right, then. If you can tolerate being called Missy Jazzy, I guess I can live with Missy Hermy." The smirk quickly turned into a glare of her own when she added, "But don't you ever even think about using that yourself. If you do, I'll make sure you end up looking and talking like a house elf **all** the time, not just with my name. Got it?"

Gulping, Jasmine nodded — Hermione didn't issue idle threats. Turning to Dobby, she said, "We'd like to talk to Winky. Do you think you can get her sobered up by..." she looked up at Hermione before finishing, "tomorrow evening, before dinner?" Hermione nodded her head in agreement.

"Oh, yes, Missy Jazzy. Dobby be having Winky sober by then."

"Good, thanks. We'll call for you when we're ready to talk to her. You can go back to your regular work now, Dobby. Thanks."

After Dobby popped away, Jasmine grabbed her girlfriend's hand and pulled her to her feet. She removed the spells from the door and said, "Let's go take a walk outside. We deserve a break after all that."

She couldn't see Hermione's smirk as she walked past her and out the door. "As you wish," she said as she left the room, "Mistress."

It took almost half a minute before Jasmine could get her brain unfrozen after that comment, and when she did she could see that Hermione was already running. Despite the large head start, she still nearly caught the bushy-haired witch by the time they got to the Entrance Hall.

* * *

 **Saturday, December 26, 1994, Evening.**

"Wormtail! **AAAAAAHHHHHH!** "

"Yes, master? What is it?"

"We are in pain, you idiot! We feel like We're burning all over. What do you think? _**Crucio!**_ _"_

"GAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!"

The Cruciatus Curse was more painful than any other dark curse, and those used by Lord Voldemort were among the worst that any wizard or witch had ever cast. This time, though, Peter Pettigrew thought that it might not have been as bad as previous sessions. Oh, the pain was incredible, but it was still a little less horrible than usual. _Am I getting used to it?_ he wondered. _Is that a_ _ **good**_ _thing?_

"Get up, Wormtail," shouted the deformed baby-thing that housed the tattered remnants of the soul of Tom Riddle. "Stop drooling all over yourself and do something about the pain We are feeling!"

"Ma-Master, I... I don't kn-know..."

 _"_ _ **Crucio!**_ _"_

* * *

 **Saturday, December 26, 1994, Night.**

Once again ensconced in her bed late at night, Hermione set up to read and take notes on _The Power of Love_. She had already learned so much from this book, and she knew that she still had several times that much more knowledge to go through, given how many pages were left. She felt charged up with both the excitement of learning new things and the thrill of knowing that what she was learning was deemed illicit by the magical government.

Many of her fellow Gryffindors assumed that her regular harping on about rules and obedience meant that she was somehow obsessive about the rules. Their conclusion was understandable, but missed the mark. She believed in order and justice. In the past, she had honestly thought that adherence to rules and authority were the best means for achieving those goals. Though, if she were going to be brutally honest, the attention and respect she got from adults because she was so diligent in following rules helped a lot, too.

Ever since joining the magical community, though, she had been learning that its rules, laws, and authority figures weren't all in support of order and justice. Many, in fact, opposed both, and she could not abide that. That's why she got a bit of pleasure from breaking those rules and laws or defying such authority figures. It was a thrill borne from pursuing a righteous cause against unjust oppressors — though often from the relative safety of her bed or some other protected place. And she had to admit, the fact that rigidly upholding the rules and obeying authority figures no longer got her the same admiration or respect also helped.

While trying to figure out which section of the book to read next, an interesting topic heading caught her eye: _Equality and Inequality in Bonded Relationships_. Remembering what she had read a few days ago about the supposedly inherent, natural, and necessary inequality in all magical relationships — including especially marriage — Hermione was anxious to learn what Pureheart had to say on the subject.

 _Let's see_ , Hermione thought as she began reading. _Traditionalists bemoan attempts to impose equality in the magical bonds of marriage... insist that marriage is necessarily unequal... and they are often correct? That can't be right!_ Looking more closely, Hermione read that it was exceedingly rare for both the magic and will of any two people to be perfectly equal, so if they became a couple, the bonding of their magic would lead to one inevitably dominating — even if only a tiny bit.

Trying to force equality between their magics by suppressing the magic of one or pushing the magic of the other only ended up causing more difficulties. The effects of magical inequality on a relationship varied, but if the difference wasn't too great and the couple put in enough time and work, then the magical inequality wouldn't produce practical inequality — or at least not much. However, Pureheart observed that most wizards and witches tended to be lazy on that score, so few bothered.

"I wonder if that explains some things about power and politics in the magical world?" she murmured to herself, considering how the magically powerful tended to dominate in so many areas of magical life. Then she frowned and decided that she'd have to talk to Professor McGonagall about it tomorrow, because it didn't sound right to her.

More than a bit disappointed, Hermione pushed ahead. _True equality is possible, but rare. Anecdotally it's always possible with soul-bonded couples, but soul bonds are so rare that these details are uncertain._

 _That's interesting,_ Hermione thought. _I wonder how that's supposed to work._ Continuing on to the next section, she read that there were some purported techniques that could be used to reduce the effects of magical inequality. Hermione perked up at that and started reading more closely so as not to miss anything. _Some couples with whom I have regular contact have found success by employing love and pleasure in bedroom games where dominant and submissive roles are switched back and forth regularly..._

Hermione quickly slammed the book shut, her face growing hot in embarrassment. _I'd heard somewhere about muggles doing things like that, but I never considered that witches and wizards might do it as well_ , she thought. _And certainly not as something that might affect the magic in relationships!_ _I'm not sure I'm ready to even_ _ **read**_ _anything like that, let alone do it. I can't imagine_ _ **ever**_ _being ready to do something like that._

Hermione's imagination, though, was difficult to stop, and her mind quickly returned to something she herself said earlier that day: _Mistress is in charge of punishments._

"Oh, bloody hell!" she cried aloud.

 _As you wish._

"It was supposed to be a joke!"

 _Mistress._

Sighing, she let her head drop to her chest and said softly to herself, "Ugh! Bloody hormones..."


	16. Hermione's Little Helper(s)

**Recommendation:** This chapter's recommended fic is "Lily Potter and the Worst Holiday" by bobsaqqara. For 16 years Lily Potter has been mourning the murder of her son, Harry. On Halloween, 6 strangers suddenly appear in the middle of Hogsmeade, each bearing a very familiar face.

* * *

 **Chapter 16 - Hermione's Little Helper(s)**

 **Sunday, December 27, 1994, Early Afternoon.**

While walking to meet with Professor McGonagall, Hermione decided to bring up an issue that had been tugging at her for a couple of days. "Jasmine," she said, "do you... do you like Cho Chang?"

"What?" Jasmine asked in response, clearly surprised by the question.

"Cho Chang," Hermione said. "Do you like her? You seemed to be staring at her a lot during the Yule Ball, so, well, I was wondering..."

"No!" Jasmine said emphatically. "She's pretty, sure, and I guess I like her, but I don't _fancy_ her. I had no idea that I was looking at her in any special way." After a moment's silence, she added, "Chang was wearing an interesting dress. Maybe I was looking at that a bit harder than other dresses, but I honestly don't remember."

Sighing softly with relief, Hermione said, "OK, thanks. I'm sorry, but I was feeling a little worried, I guess. I didn't mean to put you on the spot or anything."

"That's OK," Jasmine said, lightly bumping sideways into Hermione. "If I ever seem to behave that way, don't hesitate to ask." Hermione smiled appreciatively in response.

After they were sitting in Minerva McGonagall's office for tea and discussion, Jasmine decided to get things moving by speaking up first. "Professor McGonagall, what do you know about house elves?" Hermione's eyes widened in surprise, and she almost choked on her tea. _Why didn't I think to ask a professor_? she lamented.

Caught off guard, Minerva responded, "Well, I know a bit, though I'm no expert by far. What are you looking to know? And why ask me? I didn't expect this topic to come up."

Smiling at Hermione, who was still trying to clean up the tea she had spilled, Jasmine explained, "Hermione has been upset over what she considers to be the enslavement of house elves. Since they lack the freedom to leave a family voluntarily, "slavery" does sound like the correct term. We were told, however, that house elves need to be bonded to a family or magical institution to survive because they need the magic of wizards and witches. That sounds like a relationship that is too likely to be abused. So I was wondering what you knew of it."

Pausing for a few moments to gather her thoughts, Minerva took a drink of tea before answering. "You're right that house elves need the bond to survive. From what I can remember, though, it wasn't always that way. I vaguely recall reading a story about the house elves once being woodland elves, but they were cursed to depend on others for their magic. I'm afraid I don't remember the details, if in fact the story contained them. Perhaps the elves deserved it. Perhaps it was a lesser punishment for evil deeds. Or maybe the only evil was in cursing them."

Hermione piped up then, "So since this sort of existence was imposed on them at one time, does that mean that it can be reversed?"

Minerva considered this for a moment, then said, "In theory, perhaps. In theory, every magic has a counter, though the price one has to pay in order to achieve it might be quite high. Cursing an entire magical species in such an extreme way had to be difficult and costly; reversing such a curse would likely be at least as difficult and costly and perhaps more so, especially given how much time has passed. Even if you could find a way, though, you should take care to be sure that it would be the right thing."

"What do you mean?" Hermione asked with a frown. "How could it not be the right thing to free an enslaved species?"

Smiling thinly, Minerva tried to explain, "Just because slavery is bad doesn't mean that the alternative couldn't be worse. House elves are powerful, and right now they are controlled. Uncontrolled, they might be capable of tremendous damage. What if the original woodland elves had become something akin to magical locusts? What if they were devouring magic wherever they went, and cursing them was a last-ditch solution to control them because they were too strong to kill or easily defend against?"

A horrified look fell upon Hermione's face as she considered the implications of that. "You're right, they wouldn't be the first species to destroy their own environment and thus harm other species."

"Exactly." Minerva was pleased that her student caught on so quickly. Stories had reached her ears about what Hermione was doing to the house elves, and she had been concerned that she'd have to step in; but now it looked like matters could be settled more peacefully. "However evil the binding of house elves might be, it's entirely possible that it's a necessary evil."

"Thank you," Hermione said. "I'll have to think about this a lot more carefully." Turning to Jasmine she said softly, "I'm sorry for being so pushy about the house elves."

Jasmine reached out and gave her hand a squeeze. "Like I said, if you didn't rashly charge into some situation or other, you probably wouldn't be a Gryffindor."

"Did either of you have any other questions — questions related to our earlier and ongoing discussions, that is?" Minerva asked. "Have you read from the book I gave you?"

Blushing suddenly, Hermione answered, "Yes, I've been reading and taking notes from that book. It's fascinating, and sometimes I can't get enough. I wish everyone could see this information because I think it could change so many minds." Sighing, she looked down at her lap before continuing, "But that would only work if they believed it. If they took such arguments and ideas seriously. But I know they don't. It's so... so depressing sometimes."

Minerva reached across and patted the young witch on the hand. "I understand, dear. The problem seems so very large — and it is, given how pervasive it is through all of society. When you look at it, you suddenly feel so very small and not at all up to the task of resisting the overwhelming power of popular bigotry. You know it's wrong, but you don't feel like you can fight it and think that it might be easier to go along with it. If you won't succeed in changing it, why make life difficult for yourself by fighting it?"

Looking up with widened eyes, Hermione said, "Yes, that's it. How did you know?"

Smiling wryly, her professor answered, "I've been around for a few years. I've picked up a few things."

Frowning suddenly, Hermione asked, "Is it true that inequality is inherent in magical marriages — that it can't be avoided?"

Jasmine looked surprised to hear this as Minerva sighed and leaned back again. "It looks like you've stumbled across one of the less savory aspects of magic and magical relationships, Miss Granger."

"So... it's true?" Jasmine asked, horrified.

"After a fashion," Minerva answered. "Like so many other things, it's not a simple yes-or-no answer. For one thing, the problem stems from the creation of magical marriage bonds. They bind the magics of two people together, and such a bond has both benefits and disadvantages. One of the disadvantages is that any disparity in strength of magical power or will can become impossible to ignore. The two people are always tied together, no matter how far apart they may be physically."

"Does it matter that much?" Jasmine asked.

"In magical society, we use magic for just about everything," Minerva pointed out. "So magical power and skill are constantly an issue. If people didn't use that kind of marriage bond, then they could probably ignore the differences a lot more readily, though they'd also be giving up the benefits of having a deep emotional link — a link that helps with emotional stability and magical control." She took a sip of tea before continuing, "I suppose that not using magic very often would help, but in magical society that would be unusual."

"But when one person is magically much stronger than the other, they will end up dominating in the relationship?" Hermione asked.

"If their magic is bound together, yes," Minerva answered. "I'd like to think that in many relationships the difference is quite small, which would mean that it wouldn't matter much — especially if they put in work to overcome it, though not many do. So while some inequality may be inevitable, it need not have much practical impact and the label "dominating" might be incorrect. You'd have a similar situation if a physically strong person was tied to a physically weak person, and every day all their work and leisure were conducted via physical exertion. The stronger one would dominate at least a little. The greater the disparity in strength, the greater the inequality and the less the disparity, the less inequality there would be."

"And I guess if you had two people whose brains were connected, the smarter one would probably tend to dominate if the difference is large enough," Hermione said dispiritedly.

Minerva nodded and said, "Indeed, and few bother to think about the disadvantages or advantages — they simply go along with what already exists."

Hermione sighed and said, "It's not a pleasant thing to think about — I mean, that magic can foster such problems with inequality. I had thought that it would make everything better, not worse." She made a mental note to look into how this influenced politics and culture before she remembered something else and asked, "Oh, Jasmine and I were talking a couple of days ago and thought it might be a good idea to go to Gringotts this coming weekend. Would that work?"

Minerva tapped her chin in thought for a moment before answering, "No, but Friday would. The Headmaster usually spends New Year's Day outside the castle, but the goblins don't close because they celebrate their own New Year at another time. Would you two be ready by Friday?"

"Yes," Hermione answered, "I'm sure we will."

"Good. I recommend sending an owl to them in advance, so they know you're coming in the morning and can be prepared," said Minerva. "Anything else?"

"Oh," Hermione said abruptly, suddenly remembering something. "Jasmine said that she got you something for Christmas. I'm sorry that I didn't think to, but she wouldn't tell me what it was. She said I would have to ask you. So... what did you get?"

Hermione knew she probably should have been content with ignorance when she first saw Jasmine trying to hide her giggles behind her tea cup, then noticed that Professor McGonagall was chuckling, too. "What's so funny? Did I say something wrong?" she asked.

"No, no," Minerva answered. "It's just that Miss Potter's gift was both thoughtful and unusually amusing. Here, let me fetch it to show you." With a wave of her wand, she summoned something from her private rooms. It looked like a….

"Is that... is that a cat bed?" Hermione cried out in surprise.

"Indeed," Minerva said with a great deal of mirth in her voice. "A deluxe, covered cat bed. Inside, Miss Potter included two fur-covered, catnip-filled mice, too."

"Jasmine!" Hermione said, completely scandalized.

"Oh, don't chastise her," Minerva was quick to say. "I actually like them! Few people have ever thought to get me any gifts specifically for my animagus form. I may get cat-themed gifts, like a cat-shaped pin, but that's it. These gifts give me some extra things to do while I'm in my animagus form — things I can't do as a human. In fact, I've shifted to my animagus form more often since I received these than I usually do, just because it's more fun now."

Sending the bed back to her private rooms, she turned to Jasmine and said, "So thank you very much, Miss Potter. I was touched at the thoughtfulness, and I laughed at the cheekiness."

Hermione had no idea what to think about that. It seemed completely inappropriate, yet her professor seemed to sincerely like it.

"I have a question," Jasmine said. At Minerva's nod to continue, Jasmine asked, "Why?"

Nonplussed, Minerva replied, "Why? Why what?"

"Why are you going so far out of your way to help us?" Jasmine asked. "You're giving up a morning or afternoon every Sunday, no small sacrifice to someone holding three important positions at a major school — and during a year when Hogwarts is hosting an international competition, no less. You gave us a rare, priceless book that you admitted you probably shouldn't have had to begin with. You said you'd do anything to help or protect us, which according to you might cost you your job and all your friends. I know you said you wanted to regain our trust, but the oath mostly covers that, I think. So... why?"

Hermione looked a little shocked that Jasmine would question their professor like that, but at the same time she looked equally curious. She couldn't deny that there was some validity to the question. McGonagall had gone still at first, then set down her tea and looked at her lap. After a couple of minutes, which felt like much longer, she looked up and responded, "I believe I also said that I thought it was the right thing to do and that I didn't share our society's prejudices. Isn't that enough?"

Jasmine nodded at that, saying, "Yes, and if you tell me that's all there is then I'll accept that. I just wanted to be sure because I've never had any adult go anywhere close to the lengths you're going for Hermione and me. I'm sorry if I sound ungrateful for being suspicious, but I can't help it. This much help feels... uncomfortable, somehow. I'm not trying to be obstinate or anything. I just wanted the truth."

Minerva remained silent for what seemed like minutes as she stared back down at her lap. Neither Hermione nor Jasmine dared speak, unsure what their professor was thinking about or intending to say.

Finally, she looked back up and announced, "I wish I could say that that was all there is, but it's not. If I'm going to be completely honest with you two — and I think I probably should — then I have to admit that there is quite a lot more to my motivations than what I've told you so far. That said, I don't think I'm prepared to discuss that information right now. It wasn't something that I had prepared myself to deal with today, and I'm afraid that I'm going to need a bit of time to do so."

"Professor," Jasmine started, suddenly filled with remorse. "I didn't mean... I... you don't need to say anything if you don't..."

"Nonsense," the older witch retorted. "You may have been a bit blunt in how you brought up the subject," — and Hermione glared at her girlfriend upon hearing these words, reinforcing the message — "but it is indeed a subject you are justified in asking about. You deserve an answer. I merely need a bit of time before I can give it. I'd like to revisit this, then, either next week or the week after. Would that be acceptable to both of you?"

The two witches nodded vigorously before Hermione grabbed Jasmine's hand and hurriedly exclaimed, "Yes, that will be fine. I just realized that we have to go. Sorry for leaving suddenly. Thanks for everything today, Professor McGonagall. You've been really helpful, like always. Gotta go. Sorry!"

Sighing as the door slammed shut on the pair of young witches, Minerva McGonagall slowly shook her head. "Those two..."

* * *

Dragging Jasmine into an unused classroom, Hermione erected her usual suite of privacy and silencing charms before she turned on her friend. "How could you do that? You shouldn't pry into her life like that! And act so suspicious! She's doing so much to help us!"

"Hermione!" came the loud, sharp response. Seeing that she was shocked into silence, Jasmine continued, "If you notice, she didn't seem to mind being questioned on this. It's a difficult topic for her, that was obvious, but she's willing to tell us. And I'm not going to stop questioning authority figures just because they are being nice or helpful. Just because a person helps dig you out of crap doesn't mean they're your friend."

Hermione was brought up short by this and stared at her girlfriend for a long moment. Then she flopped down in a chair and sighed. "I'm sorry. It's... it's still reflexive for me to get upset at that sort of thing. I may not approve of how blunt you can be when doing it, but I guess I can't disapprove of your motive or goal." Looking back up at her auburn-haired girlfriend, she asked, "Forgive me?"

Jasmine pulled her back up to her feet and into a firm hug before saying, "Of course I do."

Hermione smiled before undoing the spells on the door and leading them out. "C'mon," she said, "We've got to go meet an elf."

* * *

 **Sunday, December 27, 1994,Early Evening.**

Arriving in the commandeered classroom on the seventh floor, Jasmine checked the map while Hermione silenced and sealed the door. Once they both were done they sat down and Jasmine called Dobby. With a pop he arrived, "Yes, Missy Jazzy?"

"Hi, Dobby," she said. "Is Winky sober and ready?"

"Yes, Missy Jazzy. Dobby be getting Winky sober, bathed and ready. Should Dobby be bringing Winky now?"

"Yes, Dobby, we'd like to see her now," Jasmine answered.

Dobby popped away then popped back again a few seconds later — this time with a female house elf in tow. She was easily the most pathetic creature either had ever seen. Smaller than Dobby had been even before his bonding, she had short brown hair and was dressed in a stained towel. Her red nose testified to the amount of butterbeer she must have been drinking.

"Oh, no!" the female house elf cried, "It's She-Who-Knits! We is being doomed! Doomed!" She then proceeded to sob uncontrollably, probably convinced that she was about to die a messy, woollen death.

Hermione paled in horror. Jasmine thumped her head on the table. Dobby yanked painfully on his ears, certain that this was all his fault somehow.

Finally, Hermione spoke up, "No, please, don't cry. I'm sorry. I was wrong and I'm trying to do better. Can you help me?" Apparently, asking for help was the golden ticket to getting a house elf to listen, because Winky immediately stopped sobbing and looked up at Hermione with big, confused eyes as a couple of tears rolled down her cheeks.

"You be wanting Winky's help? Why? Winky be a disgraced elf. Winky be wanting a family, but no family be wanting Winky." It was obvious to all that she was about to start sobbing hysterically again, so Hermione acted fast to stave off the waterworks.

"I don't think you're a disgraced house elf, Winky," Hermione tried to explain. "I think you were treated badly. I knitted hats because I thought all house elves were treated badly and I only wanted them to be treated well. I thought freedom would help them achieve that, but I learned that I was wrong. In fact, I learned that I was wrong about a lot of things, and I need a house elf to help me learn."

Winky stared and blinked a few times at Hermione. She had never encountered a witch or wizard who was interested in _learning from_ a house elf.

"I don't think you're a disgrace. I think you are a good elf — a good and loyal elf. That's why Jasmine asked Dobby to bring you here this evening," Hermione continued, pleased to see that the female elf was still listening intently rather than sobbing. "I'd like to bond with a house elf who will teach me and do work for me. I'll bond with you, but **only** if you're sure that it's what you want. I don't want to force it on you. If you'd prefer to try to find another family, that's fine."

Winky looked a bit pensive at hearing this. She wasn't used to being asked her opinion; instead, witches and wizards usually just issued orders and expected those orders to be carried out. This witch had to be awfully weird to care about what house elves thought, but it wasn't as if Winky had any better families wanting to bond with her. Or any families at all, for that matter.

Fixing Hermione with a stern gaze, she said, "Winky be willing, but only if Winky able to be proper and respectable house elf. Winky not be taking pay like Dobby, here."

Looking at Jasmine, who gave her a nod of encouragement, Hermione responded, "Jasmine gave Dobby a list of standing orders that she required Dobby to be willing to follow as a condition of bonding with her. I'll want to use the same orders. One is that you'll get an allowance — it's not pay, it's an allowance. In families, family members often get an allowance so they can buy what they want. You can buy gifts for Dobby, Jasmine, me, or anyone. You can buy yarn to knit your own things. You can buy pictures to hang in your room. Or not even use it at all, if you prefer. Whatever you want."

Winky looked like she was going to flat-out refuse at first, but as Hermione explained, she started looking confused and then finally intrigued. She didn't want to be paid, but the idea of buying gifts or pictures sounded interesting. She wanted to be part of a family, so if an allowance was part of being a family, then maybe that would be acceptable. Giving Hermione a suspicious look, she said, "So long as it not be being pay for work, Winky be accepting. Is that all? Can Winky be bonded now?"

"That's not all," Hermione said, "but the rest are all simple. You must take a day off each week, either all at once or spread out. This is to ensure that you are well rested — a tired or sick house elf can't work as well." Hermione almost forgot to add the last bit, but then she remembered Jasmine's advice that couching the rules in terms of being able to work better would make the elves feel better.

Continuing, she said, "You must tell me if you ever want to bond to another family. I know you may not ever want to do so, but I'll feel better if I know that you'll ask. It's for me, not for you. Next, you should feel free to give me advice or let me know if you think that I'm going about things wrong. I know little about magical society, and you know tons more than I, so I'll need your help. Don't assume that I must know what I'm doing — speak up if you know of a better way of doing things."

Hermione had to stop to think for a moment to be sure she remembered everything. "Next, you're allowed to be creative when doing what I ask, but whenever possible you should check with me first. That ensures you don't interfere with what I have planned. Next, in order to keep my secrets, you'll need to work here and pretend to be a Hogwarts elf for the time being. You can't let anyone know that you're bonded to me. Once that is no longer needed, you'll get a uniform. That's not the same as clothes. Uniforms are worn by professional workers and let people know that they have important jobs. Finally, you're not allowed to punish yourself." Giving a wicked grin at Jasmine, she concluded, "Mistress is in charge of punishments." Even out of the corner of her eye, she could see Jasmine blushing furiously.

Winky took several long moments to think through all of these orders. It was confusing, because they sounded at first like orders that no respectable house elf would ever want to follow. Money? Time off? Uniforms? But as this witch explained them, they were somehow meant to help her do better work and be a better house elf. That sounded nice. Most witches and wizards didn't do much to help elves like that. Winky was skeptical, but this witch was friends with the Great Mistress Jasmine Potter, so maybe there was hope for her.

Looking at Hermione, Winky said, "Yes, Winky wanting to be you's house elf."

Following Jasmine's instructions, Hermione knelt down in front of Winky, reached her hands out, and placed them both flat on the top of Winky's head. Speaking in a clear, firm voice, she said, "I take Winky to be my house elf, to be my friend, and to be a part of my family."

Just as Jasmine described her experience with Dobby, a bright, magical glow enveloped Hermione and Winky both. When they could all see again, they found Winky standing straighter and a bit taller — just like Dobby had become, though she was still slightly shorter than him. Winky herself was amazed at how much stronger and healthier she felt. Never in all her years working for the Crouch family had she felt anything like this! It looked like working for Missy Hermy would be a very, very good thing.

"Did you have a magical, glowing light as well?" Hermione asked Jasmine, more than a little awestruck at the experience.

"Yep," Jasmine answered, "and I think it was about that bright, too."

"Huh," Hermione said absently, wondering what it might mean.

After answering a few more questions and telling both elves that they could take orders from either witch, they let Dobby and Winky go back to doing Hogwarts work. Once the two elves were in the kitchens, Winky grabbed Dobby by an ear and dragged him into a corner for some privacy. "Dobby!" she said in as stern a manner as her high-pitched voice could manage. "You be forgetting to tell Winky about those two witches. They be witchy witches! Do they know?"

Looking a bit furtive, Dobby tried to prevaricate by saying, "Dobby be sure that they know they be witchy. Heh."

Furious, Winky made a fist and bopped Dobby on the top of his noggin, making him flinch away. She had standing orders not to punish _herself_ , but she hadn't been ordered not to punish _Dobby_ when he was being foolish. Knowing him the way she did, this was probably going to be needed regularly. Fortunately, she also had permission to be _creative_ , which was definitely going to come in handy with this fool of an elf.

"No, Dobby, not that. Do they **know**? Don't be making me say it!"

"Oh, that. Dobby not be thinking so. They not be knowing much about wizard history. Or witchy history."

Winky removed the threat of her fist from above Dobby's noggin so she could think about that for a minute. "That not be good. It be dangerous that they not be knowing." Pulling on her ears, she started to moan, "Oh, but we is not being able to be telling them!"

Trying to calm the upset house elf, Dobby removed her hands from her ears and explained, "Dobby be knowing. We is not being allowed to be _telling_ , but we is being allowed to be _helping_. Missy Jazzy and Missy Hermy be telling us, we is being allowed to be _creative_. So Dobby be helping where Dobby can, like providing special ring set."

Winky gasped in surprise. "You's being responsible for the rings they's being wearing! Oh, Dobby being smart house elf! Yes, yes, we's being creative in helping our witchy witches!"

Dobby beamed at the praise. Most house elves called him weird or a disgrace, but he had always known that he had a higher calling — a special purpose that was suited just for him. When his time came, all the other house elves would be looking up to him, Dobby the Great!

And now it turned out that he was only partially right. He did have a higher calling and a special purpose, but he had been wrong in thinking it was just for him. He never expected to have help, but now he did: Winky. Two special, creative house elves for two special, witchy witches. It was better than he could have imagined it! He was so excited!

And better yet, tonight it was his turn to clean Snape's toilet! _Life doesn't get any better than this_ , he thought with a smile.

* * *

 **Sunday, December 27, 1994, Late Evening.**

As Hermione was climbing into bed to get some sleep... _and maybe do a little light reading beforehand_ , she thought, she was suddenly joined by Jasmine, who climbed in behind her and quickly closed the curtains. "Jas," she asked, "what's wrong?"

Giving her brunette girlfriend a serious look, Jasmine explained, "I haven't forgotten that letter you got from your parents before Christmas. I haven't had a chance to say anything before, but I haven't forgotten. You looked kind of sad when you read it. Is everything alright? You can talk to me about it, if you want."

Getting comfortable by sitting on the bed cross-legged next to her friend, Hermione sighed and started picking at lint on her comforter before beginning to speak. "It's nothing bad, Jasmine, really. It's just… well, it's the usual, I guess. And not."

"Well, that's pretty specific."

Bumping up against the green-eyed witch's shoulder, Hermione said defensively, "It's hard to explain."

"I'm ready and willing to listen." Jasmine then proceeded to lay down with her head in Hermione's lap. Smiling back, Hermione ceased picking at lint and instead started stroking Jasmine's auburn hair. It was an action that calmed and relaxed both witches.

"My biggest concern right now is what to tell them about us," Hermione began again. "I don't know how they will react. Their politics have been generally progressive in the past, at least from what I know, but I can't remember them ever commenting on stories involving gays, gay pride, or anti-gay laws. So I don't know. They've always been supportive of me, but also distant, as you know. And on top of that, even if I were sure they'd be accepting, I'm not comfortable telling them via owl post. Even a phone call would be better, despite being less than ideal. But if I don't tell them, then that means I have to conceal so much about what's happening this year — more than usual, I think, which creates more distance between us." Sighing again, she said softly "I don't know what to do."

"Concealing more than usual?" Jasmine asked.

Frowning, Hermione explained, "I never give them the full story about any dangerous events here. However distant they may act, I'm pretty sure that they'd pull me from this school instantly if they had any idea how often my life has been in danger." Stopping for a moment, she moved from stroking Jasmine's hair to lightly stroking her cheek. "Once I made my first friend, a witch named Jasmine Potter, there was no way that I could allow that to happen." Smiling, Jasmine leaned into her girlfriend's hand.

Continuing, Hermione said, "As for the non-dangerous stuff... I never bothered to tell them everything, especially personal things because... I guess it felt too personal. We're not close enough for me to feel comfortable telling them personal things. Other stuff was stuff I didn't think they could relate to, like certain types of magic. What do muggles know or care about transfiguration theory? Since academics encompasses a lot of what I do, that means not much has been left to talk about. Ironically, there has been more to write about this year despite me having more to conceal. But it's been hard writing to them the last couple of times because I have to be careful in what I say about you."

Jasmine tried hard not to frown. She didn't want to let on what she was thinking, but she was starting to wonder how much of the estrangement between Hermione and her parents might be Hermione's fault. Originally she had assumed they shouldered all the blame because... well, in her experience adults were always to blame. And how could Hermione possibly be responsible for something like that? Now, though, she was seeing exactly how Hermione's behavior could at least contribute to it. And if she behaved similarly before coming to Hogwarts... well, maybe her parents were even more confused and lost than she was.

Not sure exactly how she would even begin to solve this, but deciding to take a page from her girlfriend's book by following the maxim that knowledge is power, she said, "Tell me about your parents."

Confused, Hermione responded, "I've already told you about them. They're dentists. They own their own practice."

"No, more than that," Jasmine said. "Where do they come from? Where did they go to school? How did they meet? What are their hobbies? Where does your family live?"

Still confused, she asked, "Why do you want to know all that?"

"Please, just humor me," Jasmine implored.

Not wanting to argue the point, Hermione leaned back with her pillow between her and the headboard and started to tell Jasmine more details about her parents and her family. Eventually the two witches fell asleep like that — Hermione leaning back against the headboard and Jasmine with her head in Hermione's lap. Neither position was comfortable, but neither witch would have traded their sleeping position for anything... except maybe to exchange places with the other.


	17. Just Wrote Me a Letter

**Recommendation:** This chapter's recommended fic is "Hermione's Plan" by chem prof. Hermione reconsiders her behavior during 6th year and decides that she needs to focus on helping Harry — and getting Harry, too.

* * *

 **Chapter 17 - Just Wrote Me a Letter**

 **Monday, December 28, 1994, Early Morning.**

Jasmine fancied Hermione, she really did; but one of the drawbacks of being so incredibly close to a person was how difficult it could be to keep something secret from them. Fortunately she didn't have a lot of secrets, but trying to open up communication with Hermione's parents for the purpose of improving their relationship with the bushy-haired witch was definitely something she wanted to keep under wraps for now.

Luck seemed to be on her side, because Hermione had wanted to go to the library on her own this morning. She didn't explain why, and Jasmine didn't want to mess things up by asking too many questions. She'd probably find out later anyway; for now it was better to accept her good fortune and make the most of it.

Sitting at a table in the Gryffindor common room where she could keep an eye on the door, and putting a couple of open books around her so she could switch tasks at a moment's notice, Jasmine began to write her letter. "Dear Mr. & Mrs. Granger," ...and that was as far as she got. _What am I supposed to write now?_

 _Think, Jasmine, think!_ she berated herself. _Let's take a step back. First, I originally wanted to thank them for the gift. That's easy — and the gift was all about Hermione, so maybe it will give me an opening into the bigger issue. It will at least sound more natural than me writing to them out of the blue about their relationship with their daughter. That would be creepy._

Putting quill to parchment, she continued her letter: "My name is Jasmine Potter." _Sounds stilted, but I don't know how else to introduce myself. I've never had to do this before..._

"I believe Hermione has mentioned me in her letters home to you. Well, she must have, because otherwise I can't imagine why you'd have sent me such a wonderful Christmas gift. That's why I'm writing to you now to thank you. It was amazing, it was wonderful, and I absolutely love it. Don't tell Hermione, but I look at it almost every night." _Am I laying it on too thick? Nah, it's all true._

"I wanted to give extra thanks for the captions you included — they make the photos more meaningful. The only gift that I might like more is the one Hermione gave me. It's a photo album, too, but of our time here at Hogwarts. 'Great minds think alike,' I told her when she saw that you and she had given me the same sort of gift." _OK, that'll do for the "thank you" part of the letter. Time to move on..._

"Although I was surprised to have received a gift from you, I was not surprised at its thoughtfulness. Hermione has told me much about the two of you. Since I'm an orphan, it was nice sometimes to hear about someone growing up in a loving home like yours. It could be sad, too, because I was never able to have that, but it was nice knowing that Hermione had it. Even if she hadn't told me about you, the thoughtfulness still wouldn't have been a surprise. Knowing her as well as I do, she would have to have come from a loving home given how caring and compassionate she is."

 _Too thick again?_ Jasmine asked herself. _Sigh... maybe. It sounds like I'm sucking up to them to get something, but it's still all true. And I need to get them to think of Hermione as feeling close to them if I'm going to have any hope of figuring out what their own feelings are. Someone has to take the first step to close the distance, and I need them to think that Hermione already has. If they then try to take steps themselves, then maybe we can get somewhere._

 _I should probably finish this off, otherwise they will think there's something odd going on. I just need to get them to see me as being open to conversation. If they're worried about feeling distant from Hermione, I might get lucky, and they'll ask me for advice. It's not like they have anyone else to go to._

"I'm sorry that we only ever had that one, brief meeting in Diagon Alley in the summer before second year. Hopefully I'll get a chance sometime soon to meet you properly and even get to know you better." _There, they might take that as a sign of me being willing to receive and answer letters from them._

"Best Regards, Jasmine Dorea Potter."

 _Now I need to get this to Hedwig in the owlery so she can take this to..._ Before she could finish that thought, a sound at the window behind her drew her attention. When she looked over, she saw her familiar sitting on the ledge outside, pecking on the glass.

"Hedwig," Jasmine cried happily as she opened the window to let the snowy owl inside. "Did you already know that I was going to need you?"

 _ **Preck! Chirp!**_ the owl answered.

"Well, good. I'm glad you came." Sealing up the letter, she tied it to Hedwig's leg and gave the owl her instructions, "Take this to the Grangers. Try to give it to Mrs. Granger, if you can. If it looks like they might want to write a reply, you can wait. But if a day or so has passed, and they aren't ready, you should come back. I won't need you immediately, but if Hermione wants to send a letter to them, she might get suspicious about your absence. OK?"

 _ **Preck! Preck!**_ came the reply, and Hedwig launched herself out the Gryffindor common room window, heading south.

Happy to have finally taken the first steps towards dealing with Hermione's problems with her parents, Jasmine sat down at one of the tables to read.

* * *

 **Monday, December 28, 1994, Early Afternoon.**

Walking towards the Hogwarts library just after lunch, Hermione Granger was a witch on a mission. Several times now she had tried to find information here about attitudes in magical society towards sex and sexual orientation, only to come up empty. She couldn't simply ask the librarian for help finding books about sex, but she had been optimistic that she'd come across the information if she simply found the right places to search. So far, though, every place she looked had been devoid of anything remotely useful.

It was enough to make one wonder if the library had been deliberately scoured of all references to sex. Then she remembered that she was in a school full of hormonal teenagers who had a lot of free time without direct adult supervision — of **course** somebody had removed all that material, perhaps out of fear that it would give all those teenagers ideas. _Pfft — as if the students here weren't already plenty creative enough. If anything, the right sort of material might help teenagers make better choices and avoid the consequences of bad decisions. But noooo... we don't want them fooling around, so we'll not tell them anything at all and pretend that ignorance is bliss._

"Bloody stupid wizards," she mumbled to herself as she opened the library door. "Only magic can make people that short-sighted and idiotic."

Today, though, Hermione was sure that she would be successful. Today she came to the library in order to visit the Restricted Section! All she had needed was to get that special pass from Professor McGonagall when she and Jasmine visited her yester...

Hermione froze mid-step, halfway between the library door and Madam Pince's desk. She suddenly realized that she never gotten a pass to the Restricted Section from Professor McGonagall. She'd never even asked. She had been too distracted by Jasmine's blunt questions and then so mortified by them that she had dragged Jasmine out of the meeting early. She had no pass! She couldn't go to the Restricted Section! And Professor McGonagall would be too busy today to visit again.

Dropping to her knees, she threw her head back and let out a plaintive howl. " **NNNNOOOOOOOOOOO!** "

* * *

 **Monday, December 28, 1994, Early Evening.**

Seething as she stalked through the corridors of Hogwarts, Hermione Granger was a witch on a mission. Several times now she had caught sight of her quarry, but every time it seemed to sense her presence and managed to flee before she could catch it. She wanted to ask others for help, but every time she tried they took one look at her eyes and immediately ran. She just needed to find the right place to trap her, though, and then she'd pay.

Oh, yes, Jasmine Potter would pay.

First Hermione had been distracted from getting a pass to the Restricted Section. Then she, Hermione Granger, had been banned from the library for the rest of the week. An entire week! For making a disturbance! As if she hadn't been entirely justified — didn't that blasted librarian understand her pain? Hermione had no idea how she'd survive the rest of the week without her precious library, but she thought Jasmine might serve as a useful distraction. Once she found her.

If Jasmine thought it was so funny being a distraction to her, she'd show that green-eyed witch what being a distraction really meant. Oh, yes, she'd show her.

* * *

 **Tuesday, December 29, 1994, Morning.**

Idly daydreaming while eating his breakfast, Neville felt more than heard someone drop into the seat next to him. Looking over, he saw a rather harried-looking Jasmine Potter. "So, did Hermione ever, uh, catch up to you?"

"Yes!" she replied, a bit too quickly.

"What was it that she want..."

"Don't ask!" Jasmine said even more forcefully before Neville could get his full question out.

Raising his eyebrows in curiosity, he kept looking at her, but she wouldn't meet his gaze. Finally he concluded that he wasn't going to get any more out of her and decided to let the matter drop. For now. "Okay, then. How are you doing?"

"Fine!" she said, her tone giving the lie to her words. "Just fine. Really. Great, in fact."

Suddenly Hermione arrived and sat across from them. "Good Morning, Neville. _Jasmine_ ," she said placidly, placing a curious emphasis on her girlfriend's name. Neville couldn't discern what she was trying to convey with that, but he couldn't miss the sigh that came from Jasmine when she heard her name.

"What have you got going on today, Hermione?" Neville asked.

"Well, I'm not sure right now," she responded. "Normally I'd say that I planned on visiting the _library_."

Neville thought he heard a huff from the girl beside him.

"However, the library isn't an option for a few days," she continued, "so I'll have to find other ways to amuse and distract myself. Isn't that right, _Jasmine_? Maybe work on my spellcasting accuracy some more?"

Neville saw Jasmine rolling her eyes at Hermione's questions and wondered briefly what was going on, but he decided that he didn't want to get in the middle this time. In fact, he wasn't touching this one with a ten-foot broomstick.

A few minutes later, a large group of owls entered the Great Hall to deliver letters to the students. One especially regal-looking owl headed for the Gryffindor table and landed in front of Neville. None of those present, which now included Ginny, missed the expensive-looking envelope and large wax seal.

"Neville, that looks... awfully official. Or formal," noted Hermione. "What do you think it is?"

Recognizing the owl as having come from his grandmother, and not feeling even a tiny bit less nervous because of that, Neville retrieved the envelope. He tried to give the owl some bacon, but it imperiously refused the offer as unworthy of its time and flew away.

Willing his hands not to shake, because almost nothing his gran might send in such an official manner could be good, Neville opened the letter and began to read. His friends noticed that as his eyes moved down the parchment, his face went from pale to downright pasty. Forgetting about their own breakfasts, they sat silently waiting for him to finish and decide what he could share.

After two sheets of parchment, he came to the end and let his hands drop lifelessly to the table. He stared out into the distance, not really seeing anything but clearly thinking about something unpleasant. Finally, he turned to Jasmine and gave her a look of pity and despair. "I'm so, so sorry, Jasmine," he said to her. "I had no idea that she would try something like this. But..."

"What?" she exclaimed. "What's going on?"

Looking back at the letter, he lifted it slightly and said, "This is from my gran. In a lot of formal and traditional language, she says that she found out about our date to the Yule Ball, chastises me for not having told her myself in advance, and announces that she'll be setting up a formal marriage contract between our families. She likes the idea of deepening the old alliance between the Longbottom and Potter families and thinks that since you and I are a couple, then a marriage contract is the next logical step."

Taking a deep breath, he started to continue, "I promise you, I didn't know anything about this, but..."

 **THUMP!**

"Jasmine?" he asked, looking over and not seeing her. "Jasmine?!" Finally, he looked down on the floor and saw her lying there, having fainted dead away.

* * *

 **Tuesday, December 29, 1994, Late Morning.**

It was fortunate that there had been relatively few people at breakfast that morning and that most of those had been concentrating on their mail or reading the _Daily Prophet_. Otherwise, Jasmine's fainting might have attracted attention outside their small circle of friends. That would have led to even more ridicule, questions, and probably a trip to Madam Pomphrey, none of which Jasmine or Neville could have easily coped with right now..

Instead, the four Gryffindors had to quickly finish breakfast and get to the seventh floor where they could talk in privacy. Hermione put as much power as she could into casting her silencing and privacy charms on the door: this was one conversation they didn't want anyone else to hear.

Once everyone was seated, Jasmine wasted no time in speaking. "Explain to me, Neville, what all this is about a marriage contract? This year I've already been entered into one contract without my consent, and that one stands a good chance of killing me. What's your grandmother trying to do to me on top of that?"

Still a bit pale, he tried not to stammer too much while answering. "M-m-my gran thinks that you and I are dating. She doesn't know that we only went to the Yule Ball dance as friends. So she assumes, for some reason, that if we are dating then we must be on our way to marriage. It's probably because she's old fashioned about such things. If we are on our way to marriage, then in her mind all the legal, social, and familial issues should be worked out now rather than later. That's what a marriage contract is mostly about: making sure that everyone's obligations, rights, and so forth are spelled out in advance."

"Like what, for example?" Hermione interrupted.

Happy for a brief respite from the central issue, Neville replied, "Well, in our case it would probably include naming our children — Jasmine is the last Potter, so any marriage contract she's ever involved in would include clauses stipulating that at least one child of hers would be named a Potter in order to carry on the family line." Neville cringed when he saw Jasmine's reaction, realizing that he had not only brought them right back to the central issue, but he had managed to make things even worse.

" **Children!** Your gran is not just trying to get me to marry, but to... to..." Jasmine was practically apoplectic in rage, and Hermione could see that this time her eyes were definitely glowing green. She couldn't shrug it off as a trick of the light: Jasmine was radiating power, and if she guessed right, that power was going to start seeking an outlet. Soon. If Neville's gran were in the room, she'd quickly be reduced to nothing more than a wet spot on the floor.

Suddenly, the walls of the room started to tremble and everyone noticed it.

Hermione had to act, and she had to act fast. Only one solution occurred to her: the same thing Jasmine did when Hermione needed to be pulled out of an emotional feedback loop. It was a shame that Ginny was here, but there wasn't much choice any more.

Hermione didn't notice the faint sparks of energy that started arcing between Jasmine's fingertips and the chair she was on. Focused entirely on Jasmine's face, and hoping that this wasn't a big mistake, she grabbed the witch by the front of her shirt and pulled her into a deep, spine-tingling kiss. Neville groaned while Ginny gasped, but from their vantage point neither could see how the glowing power shifted from Jasmine's eyes to encompass both of their faces.

It only lasted a minute, but to those watching it seemed like ten. Finally, Hermione ended the kiss and pulled back, looking into her girlfriend's dazed face. "Wow," was all Jasmine could get out.

Grinning, Hermione said, "Thanks, you're not so bad yourself. But you have **got** to work on your temper before you do some real damage. All of your emotions, in fact. I mean, honestly — fainting? All the stuff that's happened in your life, and **now** you start fainting?" She shook her head, but her criticism lacked heat as she remembered how she had handled her own temper yesterday. And her reaction in the library had been a bit... disproportionate, now that she thought about it. _I still don't understand why I lost control and acted that way — it's so unlike me. I guess it's something we both need to work on..._

"What's going on?" Ginny asked, reminding everyone of her presence. "Given the lack of surprise on Neville's face, I get the feeling that this is only news to me, whatever it is."

Sighing in resignation, Hermione turned back to the third-year Gryffindor and said, "Would you like to guess or should we just tell you? I'll point out that all of this is covered by that secrecy vow you took earlier."

Ginny looked a bit uncertain, but then answered, "I think I have a pretty good idea of what's going on, but I don't want to make any mistakes or offend anyone, so tell me."

Nodding, Hermione explained, "The short version is that Jasmine and I are a couple. She's always been attracted to girls and freaked out when told that she'd have to have a date to the Yule Ball — a male date. When I tried to comfort her, she ended up revealing not only her attraction to girls in general, but to me in particular. I didn't return the feelings, but I've always tried to avoid thinking about romance. I then agreed to a kiss to see what I really felt and... well... discovered that I liked it. Our relationship has been progressing from there."

Jasmine and Hermione watched the younger witch carefully to gauge her reaction. They had been fortunate with Neville's response and couldn't simply assume that they'd get that lucky again. They weren't surprised by the series of emotions that flitted across Ginny's face as she processed the news: surprise, confusion, concern, more surprise, and finally a bit of fear. They were happy, though, that they didn't see anything they recognized as disgust.

"If anyone finds out about you two..." Ginny started.

"Thus the secrecy they asked of us," Neville interjected. "You're right to be worried about what would happen to them. That's why it's so important that we protect them."

"I shudder to think of what my mother would say about two witches..." Ginny stopped as realization of several things suddenly dawned on her before she exclaimed, "That's why you took her to the ball, Neville! You knew and were covering for her!" Neville gave a small smile and nodded.

"And Krum, he's in on it, too?" Ginny asked.

"No," Hermione answered. "Only two people know about us... well, three with you now. We didn't tell you before because we've avoided telling anyone that we didn't absolutely have to, not because we didn't trust you. Viktor didn't need to know. Ron doesn't need to know. Neville did need to, and we needed someone among the students to provide us some support, so Neville was the obvious choice."

Ginny looked somewhat mollified at not having been singled out for exclusion from the Big Secret. She brightened considerably when she realized that this definitely meant that Neville and Jasmine would never be an item, so if things didn't go anywhere between her and Dean, then Neville might still be available.

Although Ginny didn't like to talk about it, her diary-imposed isolation during her first year had prevented her from connecting to her classmates, and she spent much of second year recovering from the mental trauma. Neville, Jasmine, and Hermione — and maybe Luna — were the only Hogwarts students she had developed close connections to, and she was determined not to lose that now.

Taking a deep breath, Ginny finally stated, "I'm not sure how comfortable I am with the idea of two witches being a couple, to be perfectly honest. I've never given that sort of thing any thought; now that I am faced with it, it seems weird. Maybe even a bit wrong. But you've been good friends to me and you're good people, so no matter what I may think of you as a couple, I can promise that I won't tell anyone about this."

"Thanks," Jasmine said as she and Hermione gave the ginger girl appreciative smiles. At the same time, both were also thinking that they should probably avoid any displays of affection around the younger witch. They already tried to do that around Neville, but Ginny seemed a bit more uncomfortable with the idea of homosexuality than Neville did.

"Now that we've got that out of the way," Neville said, "What the bloody hell was that all about? Glowing eyes? Shaking walls? I mean, honestly, Jasmine, what the hell?"

"No, I want to get back to the real issue: marriage, children, and imposing magical contracts on underaged witches," Jasmine retorted. "Marriage!"

"Wait!" Hermione said loudly as she held up her hands. "We do need to talk about what Jasmine was doing, Neville, but I have to agree with her that this letter from your gran takes precedence. Marriage first, glowy eyes second."

"Fine," Neville said with a bit of a pout. "If you had let me finish before trying to destroy the castle, I'd have told you that one family drawing up a marriage contract doesn't create any obligations for anyone. My gran can create a dozen contracts involving me and a dozen different witches, and it doesn't mean I'll actually end up marrying any of them." Trying to sound reassuring, he added, "There's no obligation to marry unless the guardians of both parties sign the contract."

The silence that fell on the room was palpable. "What?" Neville asked.

"Guardian?" Jasmine choked out, horror spreading across her face.

"Yes..." Neville responded slowly. "Who's your..." His eyes widened in shock. "Oh, no..."

"Dumbledore," Hermione whispered. They still had no idea if Dumbledore had ever asserted any sort of guardianship over her, magical or not; but considering what they were pretty sure he had done already, they couldn't take any chances.

Leaping out of the chair, Jasmine practically flew across the space separating her from the boy. Leaning over the desk in front of him, she started to rant, "Write her back! Write her now! Tell her to burn that Merlin-damned contract!"

Hermione and Ginny immediately separated them, with Ginny trying to steady Neville and Hermione trying to shake some sense into her girlfriend. "Take it easy, Jasmine! It's not Neville's fault. He'd be as trapped as you. Well, maybe not quite as badly, but still..." Jasmine, however, was too busy panicking to listen.

Ginny was having better luck managing Neville, who was already breathing normally again and mentally composing a letter to his gran — a strongly worded letter. He feared that he would only have one chance to get this right, so he had to make it count.

With Jasmine showing no signs of calming down, Hermione could see that she was going to need help. "Dobby! Winky!" Two pops followed her call, and two house elves suddenly appeared, looking distressed when they saw the emotional state of their mistresses. "Look at me," she said sharply, trying to get their attention and distract them from getting upset themselves. Wailing house elves would not improve their situation.

"Winky! Fetch a quill and high-quality parchment for Neville. He needs to write an important letter." She barely had the last word spoken before Winky disappeared with a pop.

"Dobby! Jasmine has just had a bad shock. Can you get her some butterbeer or... um, something stronger, maybe?" she added, eyeing her girlfriend's frazzled state. "I know it's not normally allowed for students, but..." Hermione didn't even finish before Dobby popped away.

Just as Dobby disappeared, Winky popped back in with an especially fancy quill and what looked to be expensive parchment. Neville accepted the items and began to write. "Where did you get them?" Ginny asked.

"Grandpa Whiskers be donating them," Winky explained.

"Whiskers? Uh, do you mean the headmaster?" Hermione asked. When Winky nodded, she added, "Was this, uh, a voluntary donation?" Looking down at the floor, Winky just shook her head. When she looked back up, a little scared at what Hermione's reaction might be, she saw her mistress smiling. "That's fine. He's actually part of the problem here." At that, Winky's eyes widened and her face hardened a bit.

Dobby then popped back himself, carrying a tray laden with a bottle of firewhiskey and four shot glasses. Picking up the bottle, Ginny read the label and whistled. "I don't know much about alcohol, but firewhiskey this old can't be cheap." She handed the bottle over to Hermione, who had a similar reaction.

Hermione then turned to Dobby and gave the elf a questioning look. He smiled sheepishly and said, "Grandpa Whiskers." When she asked, "Voluntary?" he shook his head, and she looked as approving as she had for Winky.

Turning back, she found that Ginny had already poured out four measures of the amber liquid, but Hermione pulled the glass in front of Neville away from him. "Sorry, Neville. I don't want you writing after having had even a drop of this. I'll refrain, too, so I can proofread while unimpaired. We'll have a small drink when the letter is all done."

Already writing furiously, Neville didn't need any encouragement. While he could well understand that a situation like this would end up being worse for Jasmine than for him, he was still outraged that his gran would start such a process without even consulting him — and his anger only grew as he wrote. _What in Merlin's name is the matter with her?_ he asked himself.

Finally finishing, he handed the parchment to Hermione so she could look it over. "I don't know all the proper and formal expressions that I'm sure you have to include," she told him, "but I did want to make sure that you hit all the important points about why this is such a very, very bad plan." He nodded that that was a good idea, and she started reading: "Horrified... would never have believed... without my consent or input... just friends... deepen our alliance based on shared values and experiences, not marriage... burn whatever has been written, and with all possible haste... awaiting your reply."

Looking up at the Gryffindor boy who always spoke of his gran as if he were frightened of her, she said, "This is pretty strong stuff, Neville. I think it's justified, but are you sure about this?"

Grim determination filled Neville's face when he answered, "Absolutely. I not only need to put a stop to this contract, but I also need to head off whatever else she might think about doing — whether it's another marriage contract in the future or anything else. I can't let her think of me as a pushover who will let her run my life however she sees fit. She's my guardian, and I love her, but I have to set limits!"

Smiling at the lion who had found his courage, she responded, "Good, that's exactly the attitude you should have. I'll take this to the owlery..."

"Excuse me, Missy Hermy?" Winky interrupted. "Youse be saying that Winky should be making suggestions. Youse be meaning that?"

Looking down in surprise because she had completely forgotten about the house elves and never thought to dismiss them, Hermione said, "Oh, Winky! Uh, yes, I did mean it. Why?"

"Well," Winky said, "If this letter is being important, we house elves can pop there faster than owls can fly."

Groaning in annoyance that she hadn't thought of that herself, Hermione said, "You're right! That's a fantastic idea! Thank you so much. Please take this to..."

"Wait," Neville interrupted. "If you're going to have a house elf carry a letter, you should make sure she is looking the best she can. A good impression will carry some weight." Looking down at the elf, he said to her, "Can you get a fancier towel or something? Even just for a little while?"

Winky looked down at her old, stained towel and felt ashamed of what she was wearing for the first time ever. Only now did she start to realize the value of a uniform, and she promised herself that she wouldn't question Missy Hermy's orders again. Such a smart witch obviously knew what she was doing!

A pop was heard across the room and then, just as suddenly, a second pop was heard behind them. Looking, they saw Dobby there, carrying a fancy elf towel. "Dobby be having perfect towel!" Crying a little, Winky, reached out to hug Dobby before snapping her fingers, causing her towel and the new, fancy towel to switch places.

Neville then sealed the letter and handed it to Winky. "Deliver it directly into the hands of my grandmother, Madam Augusta Longbottom. You can wait if she is able to give an immediate reply. If not, you can return here." Winky looked to Hermione for confirmation and after seeing her mistress nod, she popped away.

Happy to be finished with that, though nervous now about what sort of reply they might get, Hermione and Neville turned to the other two so they could share a calming shot of firewhiskey... only to find that Ginny and Jasmine had somehow managed to drink almost half the liquor between them already.

Ginny was clearly the lightweight of the pair, as she had passed out under the desk. Somehow, Jasmine was still going, muttering about marriages, children, interfering old women, and meddling old men. As they watched in horror, she downed a shot and made to pour yet another. Hermione rushed to grab the bottle from her, saying, "No! You should have had only one! Maybe two! How many have you drunk already?"

Jasmine looked up at her a bit confused and said, "Her-min-nin-on-ily! Did you know I'm getting married! Then I'm killing Ablus Fumblemore. Or maybe it's the other way around. Either way, someone's gonna die, and someone's gettin' hitched!" She started to sway a little at this point, and Hermione heard Neville behind her trying to hold in his laughter.

Turning to him, she complained, "This isn't funny!"

"Yes, it is," he responded, "and you're going to have a lot of fun torturing her for it when she's hung over. You know it's true."

Smiling in spite of herself, she looked back at her swaying girlfriend and sighed. "Yeah, you're probably right. Oh, Neville, what are we going to do with these two?"

Suddenly there was a house elf by her side. "Dobby can be helping, Missy Hermy." At her questioning look, he continued, "Dobby can be bringing pepper-up potions, sober-up potions, and hangover potions."

Hermione thought about that for a minute before she decided, "She doesn't deserve to escape a hangover, but we may need her functional now rather than later. OK, Dobby, go get them."

With a pop he was away, and less than a minute later he popped back with six vials filled with different colored potions. While Hermione and Neville were still pouring the second of the three down the mouths of the two pissed witches, Winky popped back into the room with a letter in her hands.

"What happened?" Ginny said woozily as the second potion started to take effect. "One minute was drinking... my third? Maybe my third glass. Then I woke up here. And why does my head hurt so much?"

Only after he gave the third potion to Ginny did Neville take the message from Winky. He read it quickly and heaved a massive sigh of relief. Looking up at the three witches, two of whom were holding their heads and moaning slightly, he explained, "My gran apologizes, says that she was acting on incorrect information, and promises that she'll burn even her notes."

At hearing this, everyone else gave their own sigh of relief. Hermione, though, looked puzzled and asked Dobby, "I thought you said one of the potions was for hangovers. Why are Ginny and Jasmine still suffering?" Looking sheepish, he answered, "Dobby maybe using weak, diluted potions this time." Grinning, Hermione responded, "You're a good elf, Dobby. Don't ever change." Dobby grinned back before he and Winky popped away to return to their usual duties in the castle.

* * *

 **Tuesday, December 29, 1994, Late Evening.**

It had been hours since she had drunk that firewhiskey — and she had no idea how it had been consumed so fast, honestly! — but her head still felt like someone was bouncing a bludger off of it. On the inside. The only good thing about this long-running hangover is that it got her out of having to explain what was happening when she started losing control in that classroom.

Jasmine had no idea what to say about that and hoped that having a day to think would allow her to come up with some sort of explanation. _Not that this hangover is helping me get that done any faster,_ she lamented.

At a bare minimum, she was going to have to admit that she'd been experiencing an increase in power and magical output recently, which was sure to upset Hermione. She wouldn't be upset that Jasmine might be getting more powerful — no, she'd be mad that Jasmine hadn't told her. Perhaps the fact that it had only happened over the last week or so of classes would help. The change had only been evident a few times and Jasmine, like everyone else, was distracted. She hoped that might buy her some leniency.

Rolling over, she groaned in pain as the shift in position caused the bludger to start pounding against a new spot on the inside of her skull. She had no idea why her magic — and her temper, for that matter — were so out of control recently, and she was pretty sure that it couldn't be for a good reason. As far as she knew, such changes weren't normal, and with Jasmine's luck, "not normal" ended up being dangerous.

She wished she could fall asleep and wake up on Tuesday morning again, as if the day had never happened.

* * *

In Little Hangleton, Wormtail slumped against a wall in his meager bedroom in relief. For the first time in several weeks, the Master was in a good mood instead of in pain. He didn't know what had brought on this sudden shift, but he hoped that it would continue for a while.


	18. Running Up That Hill

**Recommendation:** This chapter's recommended fic is "The Ties that Bind" by ExcalibursZone. One of the first fics I ever favorited, it's absolutely heartbreaking in places, but well worth reading. Harry and Hermione have been keeping a secret from their daughter, Erin, and it's time to tell her the truth about her past. There's a companion one-shot, "Erin's First Christmas," that's even more heartbreaking than the main story — but again, it's worth reading as well (after the main story!).

* * *

 **Chapter 18 - Running Up That Hill**

 **Wednesday, December 30, 1994, Late Morning.**

Sitting down in the commandeered classroom, Jasmine regarded her three friends as they sat facing her. This was a conversation they were supposed to have had yesterday until events (and firewhiskey) had gotten out of control, obliging them to postpone it. Now that it didn't look like she and Neville would be forced into marriage (thank Merlin!), they could all focus on other issues — like Jasmine's apparent surge in power.

"Well," Jasmine said slowly, hoping for some way to delay things, but a distinct narrowing of Hermione's eyes nipped that plan in the bud. _How does she always see through me?_ A sudden smirk on Hermione's face told Jasmine that she **still** knew what she was thinking.

Sighing, Jasmine tried again. "Look, I know you lot are expecting me to reveal some big secret I've been keeping from you, but I really have no idea what's going on. During a few of my classes over the final week or two of last term, I felt like my casting power had increased. I wasn't absolutely certain, though, because I didn't have a lot of examples to go on. And then I got really distracted by other things, so I didn't follow up outside of class. I'm guessing that this... whatever _this_ is... is related. Or maybe even the same thing."

Everyone just looked at each other in confusion — they had indeed expected more. "Sorry, but that's all I've got. I really don't know much more than you at this point."

Frowning, Hermione asked, "Why didn't you tell anyone? Why didn't you tell **me**?"

"Tell you **what**?" Jasmine cried, throwing her hands up in exasperation. "That I had some vague impression that my spells were easier to cast?" She stopped and struggled to regain control. "I'm sorry, but it's not like I was actively trying to hide anything. I agree that something is clearly going on **now** , but it wasn't so obvious a few weeks ago." _And why does my damned temper keep blowing up at the slightest provocation?_ she thought in frustration.

"Look," Neville broke in, trying to forestall further argument, "it could be that this is nothing more than a natural increase in power, maybe combined with some accidental magic fueled by extreme emotions. Most of us have at least some power growth as we grow up. I've never heard of anything that sudden, or that much of a change, but maybe you've been holding back without knowing it. Or maybe the anger is causing the growth to happen suddenly. Whatever it is, it doesn't seem to be a problem so long as Jasmine doesn't fly into a rage, right?"

Everyone had to agree to that, much to Jasmine's relief. She didn't like the idea of being studied.

"Fine, then I say, let's all just keep our eyes open — that means keeping an eye on Jasmine and watching her carefully."

 _Great_ , Jasmine thought as she rolled her eyes, _so much for not being studied_.

"This means you, too, Jasmine," Neville added firmly. "All of us, you included, need to watch for any oddities or differences in your magic. If there is a problem, we need to catch it sooner rather than later." Everyone agreed, even Jasmine, albeit reluctantly.

Thus ended one of their shortest meetings ever in this room, something for which Jasmine was very thankful. She hated being the center of attention like that, even when it was for her own good — and she couldn't deny that whatever was going on with her, it would probably be a good idea to find out what it was.

Fingering the letter in her pocket, she resolved to make time to read it that afternoon.

* * *

 **Wednesday, December 30, 1994, Early Afternoon.**

Sitting in her bed with the curtains drawn, Jasmine finally had the time to read the response sent to her by the Grangers. Hedwig had found her yesterday evening in the dorm when the others were asleep. Such a clever familiar, she had waited all day until Jasmine was alone before making delivery. Such a cheeky familiar, too, and clearly sharing Hermione's views on hangovers, given the way she had pecked her mistress on the side of the head, exacerbating her headache.

Opening the letter, she started to read:

"Dear Miss Potter," _Well, that's a bit formal, isn't it? Not feeling too optimistic here..._

"My husband and I were delighted to receive your letter, the first we've ever received from one of Hermione's friends — her first and best friend at that!" _OK, friendly, and it seems that they know me._

"We are very glad to hear that you enjoyed the gift. Deciding to send you something was quite easy, given how important you've become to our daughter over the years. We honestly should have thought to send one before now, and we're sorry that we didn't. We hoped that by sending you something personal and filled with good memories of our Hermione, we could make up for our oversight. Based on what she's told us, she's important to you just like she is to us, and you didn't have anything that told you about her life before Hogwarts."

 _These sound like very nice people,_ Jasmine mused. _How did Hermione become distant from them?_

"We only wish that we knew more about her life during Hogwarts. Oh, she tells us things in letters, and lots about you in particular, but we can't help but feel that she's leaving out a lot, too. Her letters tend to sound rather impersonal, except where you're mentioned. There are generalities about classes and teachers, but little about the actual class work and almost nothing about what she's feeling or thinking."

 _Now I'm starting to get a better picture of what's going on,_ Jasmine realized. _They've noticed what sorts of things she's been leaving out of her letters and they definitely care. They certainly aren't acting like neglectful parents now. If they don't know what to ask or how to ask for more, maybe that's caused her to think that they don't care after all?_

"If it's not asking too much, do you think you might write to us occasionally and tell us about our daughter? We feel sure that you probably know her better than anyone else in the school. Sometimes, her letters make it seem like there isn't anyone else at the school but the two of you and the teachers. My husband and I are hopeful that you can help us learn about the things we are missing, so we can better connect with her while she's here."

 _That just sounds sad! There's definitely some misunderstandings and miscommunication going on here. I can use this, I think. I just have to figure out how to proceed..._

* * *

 **Wednesday, December 30, 1994, Early Evening.**

Once again in the commandeered room on the seventh floor, Jasmine looked around at the scattered tables and chairs and wondered how she was going to be able to use this. The task just seemed so huge, and she had no idea where to even start. Eventually, she resigned herself to the solution she'd figured she'd have to use, but had hoped she wouldn't. She really wanted to be able to say that she had done this herself.

"Dobby!" she called. The excitable house elf popped in beside her, eagerly awaiting a new job from his mistress. "Hi, Dobby. I have a problem. I want to have a fancy, romantic dinner with Hermione tomorrow night for New Year's Eve. I figured that I could use this room, but I need to remove enough stuff to set up a dining area that's romantic, get the food here, then later change it all back. I'm not sure what to do or even if it can all be done, so I called you. Can you help?"

"Yes, Dobby can do!" Stepping forward, Dobby raised his hand to snap his fingers and… stopped. He just stood there, looking around for a few moments without doing anything. Jasmine wondered what the problem was, but before she could ask, Dobby turned around and said, "Maybe Missy Jazzy can use Come and Go room instead?"

"Uh, what's that?"

"Come and Go room be known to Hoggywarty elves. Room comes when needed, goes when not needed. Room is being anything you wish!"

"That… sounds very interesting, Dobby. It's worth a look. Where is it?"

Bouncing eagerly now that he had a solution, Dobby said, "Here on seventh floor! Follow Dobby!" And so she did, around several corners until they came upon a tapestry of a weird wizard trying to teach trolls to dance. When they stopped, Dobby explained, "You is needing to be walking back and forth here three times, thinking about what you be wanting. Then open door."

A bit skeptical at instructions like that, Jasmine did what she was told. Back and forth she walked, thinking hard about having a room for a romantic evening. Suddenly, out of the corner of her eye, she saw a door appear in the wall! A bit surprised that it had actually worked, she opened the door and gaped in awe at the sight before her. It was a cozy little room with an intimate dining table, a fireplace, a bearskin rug in front of it... and a large, luxurious bed.

Stepping into the room fully, she said half to herself, "I probably don't need the bed." Instantly, the bed disappeared. "Dobby," she called out, "what happened to the bed?"

Stepping in behind her, Dobby looked around and asked, "Did you not be wanting bed?"

"No," Jasmine answered. "It was here as part of a romantic room, then I said to myself that I probably didn't need it. Suddenly it was… Oh! I get it. The room will actively change based on what I want. So if I change my mind and want the bed..." Silently, the bed reappeared where it had been before.

"This is great, Dobby!" she exclaimed, and the elf beamed with the praise. "Will food just appear, too?"

"No, Missy Jazzy. Room cannot create food. But Dobby can bring! Dobby can serve!"

Smiling, Jasmine thanked the excited elf. "That would be great, Dobby. Don't tell Hermione about this, it'll be a surprise. Here's what I'd like to have..." Working together, she and Dobby came up with a menu for a classy, romantic meal prepared especially by Dobby for his mistresses. Once he left, she spent some more time in the room, experimenting to see what sorts of options existed for "romantic evening."

Some of those options were a bit… advanced, as far as she was concerned. She still wasn't sure what she thought about such things or if she'd ever be ready for any of it. She didn't want to disappoint Hermione, but she hoped that such decisions could be put off for a long, long time. Shuddering a little at some painful memories, she tried to put all of that out of her mind so she could concentrate on what was important: her coming date with Hermione.

* * *

Down in the Hogwarts kitchens, in a darkened corner sat two house elves deep in conversation. Although they did a lot of work for Hogwarts, the other elves knew that they technically weren't Hogwarts elves — they had bonded with two students who wanted those two elves to continue working there. Since Hogwarts didn't technically have any authority over them, they couldn't be chastised when they ignored work that needed to be done.

This didn't happen too often because they were good elves who loved work, but they always put the interests of their mistresses first — and right now, that was the topic of their heated discussion.

"Dobby, this be important night for mistresses. You must be doing a good job!" the female elf said in a stern whisper.

"Dobby knows!" the male elf replied. "Dobby be serving only the best Hoggywarty food!"

"No, Dobby!" cried the female elf, bonking him on his noggin with her fist. "Hoggywarty food be good enough for students, but this be special occasion! We must be getting better food. Winky be getting the food because Dobby can't be trusted."

Dobby looked very sad at hearing this, then remembered something important. "Winky, mistresses be dressing nice for special occasion, yes?"

Winky nodded her head, suspicion etched into her face.

"Should we be getting better clothes for them?" Dobby asked.

Winky thought about that for a few moments before saying, "You be having good idea Dobby, but there is not being enough time. Winky is making sure Missy Hermy's clothes are ready and Dobby is doing the same for Missy Jazzy."

Dobby nodded, glad to finally have a way to help.

* * *

 **Thursday, December 31, 1994, Early Evening.**

Hermione Granger was quite annoyed: Jasmine had been missing since shortly after breakfast. She had hoped to spend a little quality time with the auburn-haired witch tonight to celebrate New Year's Eve, but that wasn't going to be possible if she couldn't locate her and actually make some arrangements. She went up into their dorm once again and there was no sign of her, just like the last time she checked.

One thing that was new, however, was a letter and a package that seemed to appear from out of nowhere on her bed. Picking up the letter, she found that it was from Jasmine. Finally! It instructed Hermione to put on the clothes in the package, cover up with a robe, then meet her at 8PM in a room in the 7th floor corridor across from the Dancing Troll Tapestry. Frowning in thought, she tried to remember what room Jasmine meant and realized that she didn't recall any rooms being around there at all; but she decided to set that question aside for now.

Looking in the package, she found that it was an outfit she had picked up that day they had gone dress shopping in Hogsmeade, though the clothes seemed to look a little nicer than she remembered. Very curious now about what Jasmine had in mind, she looked at her watch and saw that she needed to get changed soon in order to make her unexpected appointment.

* * *

Upon reaching the correct corridor on the seventh floor, she recognized where she was and was certain that there wasn't a door where Jasmine said to look… yet there it was! Hermione was sure that she had never seen a door there before. Since it was already ajar, however, she slowly opened it and was amazed at what she saw.

Clearly, this was a room set up to provide for a romantic evening of dinner and dancing. There was a small table for eating and a small dance floor perfect for one couple (complete with mirror ball above); a clock on the wall was counting down to midnight. Over on the other side of the room was a plush love seat in front of a roaring fire. "Wow," Hermione said to herself softly as she looked around, taking everything in.

Hearing a throat clearing behind her, she realized that she had walked most of the way into the room without noticing. Turning around, she saw Jasmine standing there, wearing an especially gorgeous outfit that she remembered her girlfriend buying at Gossypamer & Organza's. It, too, seemed a little nicer than she remembered, but that might have simply been a trick of the light. Or maybe it was the person wearing it.

"Wow," she said, a bit louder and more firmly this time.

Jasmine smiled broadly and observed, "Thanks, but you're still looking a bit frumpy for the evening."

"What? Oh!" With a bit of a flourish, Hermione removed her outer robe, twirling in place to display the results. "Better?"

"Much," Jasmine replied with obvious appreciation.

"Did you go digging through my clothes to find all of this?" Hermione asked with a hint of a smile on her face.

"Nope, didn't need to," her green-eyed girlfriend answered. "I just asked Winky for help. You told her she could take orders from me, but I didn't even need to do that much. I simply explained what I had in mind and said that I wanted you to have a nice outfit ready to go. Winky did the rest."

"Smart elf, isn't she?"

"Oh, absolutely. Ready for some dinner?" At Hermione's enthusiastic agreement, Jasmine led her to the table where she held out her chair for her before sitting herself. Clapping her hands twice called Dobby to their side, where he proceeded to serve them a starter course. Over the next two hours, they ate a leisurely meal and enjoyed each other's company.

When they were done, music came out of nowhere and the mirror ball started to spin, casting spots of light all around the room. This time, Hermione took charge by holding out her hand and asking Jasmine if she'd like to dance. For the next hour or more the two of them danced to one slow, romantic song after another, sometimes using the dance steps they had learned, sometimes just holding each other close and swaying to the music.

Eventually they had to sit down, and after they were comfortable on the loveseat, Jasmine turned to Hermione to say, "As we're coming down to the end of the year, and even though it's not yet a full month since we became a couple, I was wondering if we could talk about our relationship."

Curious and a little apprehensive as to what she could mean, Hermione said, "Sure. What about it?"

"Well," Jasmine said, "I started out knowing that I preferred girls, but you... well, I know it came as a bit of a surprise, to say the least. So aside from everything else, you've been having that new reality to get used to. I was just wondering how you were doing. Are you feeling any better about things? Are you sure," she added more softly, "that you made the right decision to go ahead with this?"

Caught off-guard by the questions, Hermione stared into the fire for a long time, and Jasmine tried to squelch her sudden fear that she wouldn't like what was coming. Finally, Hermione looked up and said, "I think I can answer that, but I have to go back a bit. You know that when I was growing up I was teased by other kids. At the time I always thought it was because I was smarter than them and cared more about books and homework. Later I thought it was because of my know-it-all attitude. Most recently, I started suspecting that it was because I was a witch, and the kids around me could sense that there was something strange about me."

Jasmine nodded in understanding. She, too, had always had trouble with other kids. She always thought that it had been entirely due to Dudley driving them away from her, but in retrospect she wondered if perhaps there were other factors at work.

"When I was younger," Hermione continued, "I knew that there was something missing from my life — something important that was hidden or locked away. When I learned I was a witch and was introduced to the magical world, I assumed that I had found what was missing. It seemed to make sense: being magical but not knowing and growing up in the muggle world seemed to be the source of all my problems." Jasmine nodded again, having felt something similar upon learning that she was a witch.

"Unfortunately," Hermione went on, "that didn't turn out to be the case. Once I got to Hogwarts, I found that things didn't change all that much for me. I was still shunned and bullied by other kids. Even worse, I still felt that something was missing — magic may have started to enrich my life, but it didn't fill the hole in my life like I thought it would."

Hermione paused at this point and looked intently at Jasmine. "Then you saved me from the troll, and our friendship got started. Oh, we weren't instant friends, and it was a rocky start, I know. Looking back, I can see how my bossy behavior and mannerisms drove you spare. Yet, for some reason, you stuck by me. I was doing just about everything wrong in terms of being a good friend, but you didn't abandon me.

"And that hole in my life? It was only during the summer after our second year that I realized it had been disappearing. I hadn't noticed before, probably because life here at Hogwarts can be so stressful, what with all the dangers and adventures we face. It was only when I had a chance to relax during the holidays that I finally realized the truth, and the truth is this: you, Jasmine Potter, have filled that hole in my life. You did it through your friendship, your support, and your compassion. It's because of you that the hole is gone entirely now, and I no longer feel like anything is missing."

She reached out and took Jasmine's hand. "So to answer your question: I don't really know if I'd be out there dating boys or girls if given the chance, because I can no longer imagine myself being with anyone but you. I know we're still in the early stages of going beyond friendship, but you were already such an important part of my life that it doesn't feel like we're a new couple. Even before we kissed, I don't think I'd have been able to accept not having you in my life. Now, I know I can't — there's no Hermione without Jasmine. And whatever else happens, **this** ," she said, raising their joined hands and squeezing tightly, "this is **right**."

Both witches were a little misty-eyed, but Jasmine much more so. Hermione hadn't said "I love you," but she had come closer than anyone else in her entire life that she knew of. She was sure that her parents must have told her many times, but she couldn't remember it, and that had always hurt. Knowing in the abstract that someone probably loved you in the past doesn't make up for never remembering love or hearing the words.

"What about you, Jasmine?" came a soft voice from beside her. Suddenly distracted from her reverie, Jasmine looked over at her girlfriend. "How are you handling things?" Hermione gently nudged, hoping that Jasmine's recent willingness to talk about her feelings would continue now.

Swallowing past a lump in her throat, Jasmine smiled and said lightly, "Oh, I'm just fine with girls."

Laughing, Hermione swatted her leg, then dabbed at her eyes a bit. "C'mon, I'm serious. How are you feeling about the way our relationship has changed?" She smiled, but Jasmine could hear the catch in her voice, as if pouring out her heart like that had made her even more vulnerable.

Jasmine took a deep breath. Turnabout was fair play, after all. "Well," she began, "I'm really not sure when my feelings for you started — feelings beyond friendship, I mean. I found you interesting when we first met on the train, and your repairing my glasses was not only impressive, but it made me feel good. No one had ever just helped me like that before. After that, though, I don't think I thought about you much — I was pretty overwhelmed with all the new things we were exposed to." Hermione nodded her head in agreement with that.

"In our first few weeks of school, you were... I'm sorry, but I guess you were a bit annoying at times. I don't think I was as annoyed as others seemed to be because I could understand the desire to impress teachers, even if the Dursleys had suppressed that in me by that time. After we dealt with the troll, though, you seemed to attach yourself to me and Ron..."

"Yeah," Hermione admitted with a bit of embarrassment. "I was just so impressed that I wanted to spend more time with you two. No one aside from my parents had ever defended me in any way remotely like that. I think I had a bit of hero worship of you before, based on what I had read in books; but after you saved me it became a lot more personal."

"I'm glad you made it personal," Jasmine responded with a smile. "I don't like it when people hero-worship The Girl Who Lived, but being respected for me as a person and for things that I've done makes a big difference. I think it made a big difference in our relationship, too. Also, I don't know how long it would have taken us to get to know each other if you hadn't been at least a little pushy — I'm not very outgoing and never learned how to make friends. I probably needed a bit of pushing."

"Glad I could help," Hermione said wryly.

"Anyway, somewhere along the line, my feelings started to change and move away from mere friendship. I think I first started to notice it when you were petrified and I kept visiting you."

Jasmine sat and thought for a few moments before continuing, "I guess your analogy of having a hole in your life works. I was always missing something, but for the longest time I didn't even realize it. Living with the Dursleys, I couldn't even think about that sort of thing. Hoping too much for a better future tended to make the present even worse. Once I met you, though, that hole started being filled, and my life started to mean something. It was only when you were missing that I started to understand what was happening to me."

Jasmine looked intently into Hermione's brown eyes at that point, saying, "One way or another, I knew for sure about you that night we rode Buckbeak at the end of our third year. That was easily the most romantic thing I'd ever done, and I dreamed about your arms wrapped around me from behind for all of last summer." Hermione's eyes widened at hearing this. "The only real affection and warmth I've ever known has come from you, Hermione, and it means the world to me. A few weeks ago, I risked our friendship to tell you the truth about how I felt. It was one of the hardest things I've ever done, yet it's made me happier than I've ever been. I'm **so** thankful you were willing to take a chance and kiss me that day. "

With that declaration, a gong sounded to signal the dawning of the New Year. Already on an emotional high from listening to each other's confessions, the girls simply fell into each others arms to kiss.

Perhaps it was because of the heightened emotions, or perhaps it was simply the right moment, but this time when the glowing tendrils of light reached out from each witch, they finally made firm contact. Gradually they began to intertwine and blend, and where they had been blue and green before, they radiated a soft, pure white where they joined. Before the joining was complete, however, the kiss stopped and the glowing lights instantly winked out.

"Wow," the two witches said simultaneously, blinking from a flash of light which they both assumed came from the sparkling mirror ball.

* * *

In a run-down manor house in Little Hangleton, Peter Pettigrew spent New Year's Eve in much the same way he had spent Christmas evening: screaming in pain under the _Cruciatus_ curse.

" **AAAAHHHH!** Wormtail, somehow this constant pain We are suffering is all your fault. _**Crucio!**_ "

"S-s-s-s-sorry, Master. I-I-I don't kn-kn-know how..."

" _ **Crucio!**_ "

Nagini sat coiled in one corner, wondering if she'd ever be allowed to simply eat the rat man and be done with him. He didn't look very appetizing, but at least he'd last for a while as she digested him. At the rate her master was cursing him, he soon wouldn't have enough brains left to be good for anything but snake food.

She did wonder, though, why her master was in constant pain as well. Who was cursing him? And why did the power behind his commands to her seem to keep diminishing? Was it her, or was there something wrong with her master?

She didn't know the answers, but she decided to keep her own counsel and simply observe. For now.


	19. New Beginnings, Old Problems

**Recommendation:** This chapter's recommended fic is "Escalation" by Bobmin356. Dumbledore's manipulations are undermined by muggle technology which he doesn't understand. Short, but very funny.

* * *

 **Chapter 19 - New Beginnings, Old Problems**

 **Friday, January 1, 1995, Early Morning.**

Albus Dumbledore sat enjoying a very early morning tea and light breakfast. He always savored the quiet, peaceful atmosphere of early mornings, but he found the first of the year to be especially delightful because so many people tended to sleep in, recovering from parties the night before. Sitting in his office, basking in the dawn light in the knowledge that few were awake and active, he couldn't help but feel reassured that events were well in hand.

Recently his thoughts had been turning more and more to one troubling topic: Jasmine Potter. Unlike everyone else around him, he hadn't truly been surprised when her name came out of the Goblet of Fire. Oh, the tampering with the Goblet itself had been a bit of a shock (and a clever bit of magic that he still had yet to figure out); but considering all that had happened to the girl over the previous three years, it would have been more of a surprise if something dangerous **hadn't** come her way. He was confident, though, that she could overcome the challenges of the tournament just like she had all the others she had faced. If nothing else, he suspected that she'd be protected by the demands of the prophecy.

His primary concern was that he still didn't know who had gotten past his protections and entered her name in a way that ensured her participation. Such ignorance on his part limited his ability to guide events to serve the greater good.

Another growing concern involving Miss Potter was her circle of friends. _The falling out with the youngest Weasley boy was unfortunate_ , he reflected, _but not a crisis. Any estrangement from the Weasley family probably won't affect their participation in the future fight against Voldemort, whenever it starts, especially given the growing closeness to young Ginerva. It won't have any impact on the political capital I'll need to deal with Tom's servants in the Ministry and in the Wizengamot when the time comes._

Taking another sip of tea, Dumbledore pondered the new romantic relationship with the Longbottom heir. _That has both positive and negative implications_ , he thought. _Support from the Longbottom family would be good, but Augusta's antipathy towards me might lead to a rift between Miss Potter and myself. I cannot afford that. There is also the risk of Mr. Longbottom revealing to Miss Potter things that I've needed to keep from her until she is older._

 _On the other hand,_ he considered further, _his presence in her life is better than Miss Granger's. Too close of an association with a muggleborn might upset the light and neutral families that want to see a heroine and savior who is firmly a part of our world._ He didn't share the prejudices most of magical society had against the muggleborn, but he had to concede that Miss Granger might tend to pull the girl away from wizarding culture and encourage her to be too critical of wizarding traditions.

Fawkes, Dumbledore's phoenix familiar, looked over at the headmaster and grew sad at the feelings and ideas being transmitted through the bond. The old wizard was still firmly on the side of the light, but honestly, some of Albus' priorities had taken a bizarre turn over the last fifteen years. Sometimes he seemed to be so focused on managing the particulars that he lost sight of the larger picture. Even worse was when he contemplated sacrificing his ideals for the sake of some practical gain.

The phoenix understood that a man in his position often had to make hard decisions, but was his isolation affecting his judgment? Albus had always been loath to rely on others if he could avoid it, but he was doubly so since the end of the Blood War. Fawkes knew that the wizard was deeply concerned about the ongoing influence of Voldemort's supporters in magical society, and he feared that anyone he brought too deep into his confidences could fall prey to legilimency or even threats against their families. Still, this just wasn't healthy. Surely there were others capable of helping him shoulder the burden?

Fortunately nothing so awful had happened yet that Fawkes felt the need to break the bond, but the phoenix wished that something could be done to improve the situation. The last time the immortal bird had been able to intervene directly was when saving the girl in the Chamber of Secrets — and even then, it was only possible because no one else had been there to see the use of phoenix tears. Given Fawkes' position, it was inadvisable to act too openly or too often. Only the girl and the headmaster knew for sure what had happened, and that's the way it had to remain.

With a ruffling of feathers brought on by a sudden chill, Fawkes settled down to doze and perhaps think a bit more on what could be done.

 _Overall,_ Dumbledore concluded, completely unaware of the thoughts of the phoenix in the room, _the relationship with Mr. Longbottom probably has more negatives than positives, but interfering successfully wouldn't be easy. I'll have to wait and watch. Most relationships among people their age tend not to last too long anyway. If he ends up simply a good friend of hers, replacing Mr. Weasley, that might work out for the best overall._

Looking at the letters and paperwork that had piled up on his desk over the past week, he sighed. Other duties outside the school had forced him to neglect some of his work here, and he really needed to deal with it before it built up much further. Unfortunately, he had prior commitments for this day, just as he did at the start of every year.

First he needed to make a trip to the cemetery in Godric's Hollow, then he needed to stop by the Hog's Head to see if Aberforth would deign to talk to him this year. The response would probably be the same as always, but that never stopped him from trying. His quest for forgiveness and reconciliation had been a part of his life for so long that he could scarcely imagine what things would be like without it. One thing was certain: it served as a useful reminder that true change was possible, as he himself knew so well, and therefore every opportunity for repentance must be given.

 _I'd be a hypocrite to do otherwise_ , he thought, not for the first time.

* * *

 **Friday, January 1, 1995, Morning.**

Hermione knocked on Professor McGonagall's door while Jasmine adjusted her robes. Both witches were wearing what they hoped was sufficiently nice clothing for their meeting at Gringotts. They had never received a reply to the letter they had sent to the bank, so they didn't know if there were any specific protocols they should follow. All they could do was look their best and arrive at the time they had originally requested.

Minerva McGonagall let her lionesses into her office and gestured them over to her fireplace. "Normally it's not possible for just anyone to floo into my office, but I'll be opening it up for the two of you for the day," she explained. Reaching up to the mantle, she opened a small blue jar and held it out to them. "Here is some floo powder. Use it to go to Diagon Alley; from there you will have to walk to Gringotts. Keep the hoods of your robes up so no one recognizes you. And for Merlin's sake, don't forget to stay polite, no matter what happens!"

Hermione elbowed her girlfriend at that last reminder and was answered with a roll of Jasmine's eyes for her trouble. One after the other, the two witches stepped through the floo and exited in the Leaky Cauldron at the end of Diagon Alley. Moving quickly through the shadows, they made their way out the back of the bar, into the alley, and up to Gringotts. It was still early enough that few shops were open, and there were few people to observe or delay them.

Once inside the bank, they approached the nearest teller window, where Jasmine announced herself. "Good morning, my name is Jasmine Potter. I sent a letter earlier this week that I wanted to come here at this time to learn about the status of any vaults that might belong to my family. I never received a response, so I don't know if there is someone in particular I should ask for."

The goblin teller looked Jasmine up and down, then also seemed to examine Hermione as well. "Did you request a response, or request anything that required a response?" he asked.

"No," Jasmine replied. "I've never done this before so didn't know what the standard practices were. I sent the letter because I thought it might be rude to just show up with no advance notice and expect help with what might be a large project."

The goblin gave her another appraising look at that, then told her to wait while he checked on the status of her meeting. He directed the two witches to a waiting area over to the side of the lobby, where they stayed for nearly fifteen minutes until a goblin wearing what appeared to be a nicer suit came up to them. "Is one of you Jasmine Potter?" he asked brusquely.

Jasmine lowered the hood of her cloak and responded, "Yes, sir, I am."

The goblin frowned and said, "Your presence here is most unexpected. Follow me."

The witches gave each other a questioning look before rushing to catch up with the goblin. He was shorter than they but walked incredibly fast.

Once all three were seated in a fairly nice office, the goblin introduced himself. "My name is Knobshaft — I'm a senior account manager here for Gringotts. Miss Potter, why did you not follow the instructions you were sent?"

The two witches once again looked at each other in confusion before Jasmine replied, "Mr. Knobshaft, I haven't received any instructions from Gringotts on anything. Ever."

The goblin frowned at this, then picked up a file and pulled out a piece of parchment. "Did you send us a notification that you wanted to meet with someone today at this time about your family accounts?"

"Yes, sir," she answered.

He then handed her the parchment he was holding and asked, "Is this the letter you sent?"

She only needed to look for a few seconds to answer, "Yes, sir, that's what I wrote and that's my handwriting."

She then handed it back to the goblin, who pulled out another piece of parchment and said, "And you maintain that you didn't receive a copy of this response?"

"No, sir. I didn't know if a response was to be expected, so I didn't think anything of it," Jasmine answered, starting to get nervous at the goblin's attitude. He didn't offer her a copy of the second parchment.

Knobshaft set the two pieces of parchment aside and began to look at the rest of the contents of the file. After a lengthy silence, he looked back at the witches, eyes travelling from one to the other and back again. He finally seemed to make some sort of decision and ordered them to remain where they were seated before leaving the office.

"Hermione, do you have any idea what's going on?" Jasmine asked.

"Not a clue, Jas, but he didn't look too happy," Hermione answered with a worried look on her face.

After a few minutes, Knobshaft returned in the company of a second goblin, this one even better dressed. He looked over the contents of the file with Knobshaft for a minute before addressing the two witches. "Is it possible that you received our letter and forgot?"

Jasmine and Hermione looked at each other, then Jasmine replied, "I won't claim to be perfect, sir, but I am absolutely certain that I never received any letter from you. I've never received anything at all from Gringotts, in fact. I can't say for sure that the delivery owl didn't get lost or anything like that; I can only say that I never saw one."

The goblin nodded in understanding and said something to Knobshaft in their own language, then left.

"We're willing to believe you," Knobshaft began. "It's very concerning to us that you never received anything — either our most recent letter or anything else. We began to suspect that something along those lines might be happening, however, when your letter implied that you hardly knew anything about your family's holdings, at least beyond your trust vault. Then I started pulling your records and noticed that neither you nor any representative of yours has been in for any meetings, and nothing official had been done with any of your family accounts since the demise of your parents. Nor were there any recommendations made for investments, which means your holdings have not grown as they could have. These are all red flags, though the first is obviously the most serious. That's why our response instructed you to delay coming here. We need to do a complete audit of all your accounts, and that takes time. Until that is complete, we will be unable to give you the sort of information that you deserve."

Knobshaft watched as the two witches looked at each other. A series of expressions flickered across their faces, accompanied by subtle shrugs and other gestures, yet they didn't speak a word. Finally, having apparently arrived at some agreement, they turned back to him.

"Why does it take so long?" Hermione asked. "Are Jasmine's family accounts that complicated?"

"No, Miss Granger," Knobshaft responded, now very curious about the exchange he just witnessed and surprising the witches that he knew Hermione's name. "The reason why it takes so long is that in a full audit, everything must be checked at least once and verified by hand. Normally magic keeps track of what's in a vault, but in an audit a team of goblins checks everything personally. Typically magic is used to retrieve parchment records, but in a full audit a team of goblins manually goes through the records to verify that everything needed has been retrieved. We work as quickly as possible, but all that labor takes time."

"Oh. Well, thank you for taking the time to verify everything, Mr. Knobshaft," Jasmine said, still a bit unsure of herself. "How much do I owe you for this service?"

"It's just Knobshaft, Miss Potter, or Account Manager Knobshaft. Because we are responsible for ensuring that your accounts are taken care of, you aren't paying for this audit — we are, because we called for it."

Both Jasmine and Hermione were surprised to learn this. "Thank you for that information, Account Manager Knobshaft. I hope nothing is missing — I only just learned a couple of weeks ago that I might have anything beyond my trust vault. Do you...do you think there's something really wrong?"

Knobshaft looked carefully at the witch before answering. "Technically, I'm not supposed to say anything about an audit before it's completed. However, off the record, I really don't think that anything serious like fraud or theft has occurred. However, if anyone were to try to commit fraud, keeping you from learning about your accounts would be one of their first steps. Our treaties with the wizards obligate us to protect your accounts, so we have to take even the possibility of fraud very, very seriously."

"Better safe than sorry, then?" Jasmine asked. When the goblin nodded, she continued, "Um… do you need anything from me?"

"I'm glad you understand," Knobshaft replied. "No, Miss Potter, we should have everything we need already. We'll get in contact with you when we're ready to meet."

"How will you do that?" Hermione asked. "It doesn't seem as though she's getting any letters you send."

Knobshaft's eyes widened at this. "Indeed — I should have taken that into account. Gringotts mail is normally very secure, and we never have to worry about letters not being received. The privacy and security of communications from us to our customers is in fact something else that is supposed to be guaranteed by treaty with wizards. Hmmmm… don't worry, Miss Potter. We still have some time. We'll find a way to contact you."

"Very well," Jasmine said, "I guess there isn't anything else we can do here now, so..."

"One moment, please, Account Manager Knobshaft," Hermione interrupted. "Might we have a copy of the letter you sent?"

Smiling now for the first time (a rather toothy smile that Hermione found even more disturbing than his previous coldness), Knobshaft used goblin magic that neither witch understood to create a copy which he handed over. As she reached for it, Hermione saw his eyes narrow suddenly as his gaze seemed to focus on her outstretched hand. Just as she was beginning to wonder if she had done something wrong, she saw his glance shift to where Jasmine's hands sat loosely folded in her lap.

 _Our rings!_ she realized with a start. _The enchantments on them are goblin magic — can he see through them?_ Quickly she took the proffered parchment and tucked her hand under the folds of her robes. Though she tried to act as though nothing had happened, she couldn't miss the measuring look he gave both of them.

Jasmine, for her part, seemed to be lost in her own thoughts and hadn't noticed anything. Hermione gave her a nudge with her right hand to bring the her girlfriend's attention back to the meeting.

"Thank you once again," Jasmine said, realizing that they were done. Both witches stood and gave the account manager a small curtsey before leaving his office.

"Such a curious pair of witches," Knobshaft murmured to himself, pleased to have seen that they treated goblins politely, unlike so many humans. It was their behavior towards each other, though, that had him most preoccupied. He sat there for a few minutes, tapping his fingers on his desk and reflecting both on what he had seen and what the teller had reported to him before the meeting started.

Then he looked over some of the documents in his file, noting the rings that had recently been removed from the heirloom vault and how one of them had been reforged. _So they were indeed matched rings_ , he concluded. According to the description in the vault records, they were old Potter family pledge rings. _And when rings have been in a family that long, the family magic typically doesn't allow anyone but an established couple to wear them — a Potter and their mate, betrothed, fiancé, or some such pairing. Somehow, then, they are a couple. But how? What exactly is their relationship?_

Finally, he shook his head as he came to a decision. He didn't know what it all meant, but it was definitely unusual. More importantly, he suspected that, Account Manager or not, whatever was going on was above his pay grade. As per long-standing orders regarding certain unusual situations involving their clients, he pulled out a piece of parchment and began writing a report for the Senior Branch Supervisor for London, Earchewer, to review.

* * *

 **Friday, January 1, 1995, Morning.**

Jasmine and Hermione didn't waste any time getting back to Professor McGonagall's office. They would have liked to browse the shops of Diagon Alley, especially with many of them opening up by the time they were making their way out of Gringotts, but they wanted to talk to her about the missing letter as soon as possible.

Minerva was startled to see them return so soon and grew quite concerned when they sat down and told her the story of what had happened that morning. All three witches sat in silence for a while as they reflected on all the new information and what it might mean.

Speaking up first, Hermione said, "As disturbing as it is to learn that the goblins think an audit is necessary, there's nothing we can do about it right now, is there? For the time being, it looks like it's a Gringotts matter, and I assume we can trust them to solve problems in their own bank."

Minerva nodded at that, saying, "The goblins aren't very forthcoming when it comes to information about how they operate, but I think you're right. If there is a problem, they'll find it. And if there isn't, which seems to be the opinion of the goblin you talked to, then you haven't lost anything."

"That leaves us with the issue of my mail," Jasmine added. "I'm sure that Gringotts will investigate since their mail was affected, but what if they aren't the only one? If the problem is closer to me than to them, they might not be able to locate it."

Minerva nodded again. "Quite true, Miss Potter. And I have a suspicion about where to look. There can't be very many people who have the power to intercept or redirect mail, who have a desire to control what you know, and who have enough access to you to carry out such a thing."

Jasmine lowered her head into her hands and moaned, "Dumbledore..."

Hermione reached out and put her hand on Jasmine's shoulder while Minerva continued, "Indeed, Miss Potter. And as bad as that is, there is a further problem. If the Headmaster has done something to redirect Miss Potter's mail, then it is likely that he is reading at least some of it — especially anything official. If he has read that letter from Gringotts, then he'll know that she has contacted them about her inheritance.

At that, Hermione got a slightly panicked look in her eyes and whipped out the copy of the letter which they had been given by Knobshaft. She handed it to the older witch, who found that the contents of the letter were fairly straightforward: Jasmine Potter was informed that her accounts were being audited for possible errors and that if she wanted to access them, she would have to contact Gringotts first. Once the audit was completed, she would be contacted with more information and a time for a meeting, if she wished to hold one.

Setting the letter down, Minerva's worried look softened considerably. "This is much better than I feared. For whatever reason, they didn't bother to mention Miss Potter's original letter to them. He may worry that Miss Potter has been in contact with Gringotts, but the letter doesn't come right out and say it. This means he will probably watch you more closely, though with the tournament I imagine he's already doing that anyway."

All three witches were heartened slightly at the news, but it didn't lessen their worry much overall. "Is there any way to find out how my mail is being redirected and who is doing it?" Jasmine asked.

"I'm honestly not sure," Minerva answered. "I only know that such a thing is possible, not any particular methods or spells by which it might be done. I'll see what I can find out, but I'll have to be very careful and discreet."

"Thank you," Jasmine said with a grateful look at her professor. "I'm not sure what we'd do without your help." Jasmine and Hermione stood to depart, determined to find something fun to do for the rest of the day in order to distract them from their mood.

"Oh, before we go," Hermione suddenly said before she reached the door, "Professor McGonagall, would you be willing to give me a pass to the Restricted Section of the library? I've been trying to do research on the topics we've been discussing, and I want to make sure that my research is thorough."

Minerva gave the brunette witch a long, speculative look before saying, "Very well, I think you can be trusted with this. I want you to be careful, though. It's quite unusual for students to be granted this privilege before they have completed their OWLs. Don't give me any reason to regret doing this."

Hermione was practically bouncing while her professor wrote out her pass. She wanted to be solemn and mature, but she simply couldn't hold in her excitement. Access to new books and knowledge always did that to her. "Thank you ever so much, Professor McGonagall," she said as she reverently accepted the pass.

After that, both young witches left, leaving behind a Deputy Headmistress who was growing more and more concerned about the activities of her boss.

* * *

 **Saturday, January 2, 1995, Morning.**

Hermione would have liked to have spent all day Friday in the library's Restricted Section, but in light of yesterday's revelations she had deemed it more important to spend time with Jasmine so they could recover from the bad news. She honestly wasn't sure what might be worse: that something might be wrong with Jasmine's vaults in Gringotts or that someone, especially the headmaster, might be redirecting and reading her mail. Both would be incredible invasions of privacy.

Mostly the two young witches had just sat and talked. They couldn't quite bring up the energy to go out and do anything; Jasmine wasn't even interested in flying her broom, which was unusual and worried Hermione. Still, talking and cuddling behind the bed curtains was good for them. Jasmine's life being what it was, finding time to relax and do nothing would never be easy, so seizing the opportunity when it presented itself was probably a good idea.

Now, though, Hermione needed to focus her attention on the books in front of her. The Restricted Section! Madam Pince had been suspicious of the validity of the pass and actually checked with Professor McGonagall before letting her in. The nerve! Eventually, though, she had made it past the ropes barring entrance to what she had long regarded as the holy of holies in Hogwarts.

Jasmine had snuck in here once, back in first year, and Hermione had managed to convince Professor Lockhart to give her a pass in second year, but that had only been for one visit. As daft as that wizard was, even he knew better than to give a second-year witch a completely open-ended pass to dangerous magics. This was her first unrestricted access to the Restricted Section and she wanted to savor it.

After breathing in deeply the scent of the books and basking in their presence for a few minutes, she finally got down to work: researching attitudes regarding sex and sexuality while keeping an eye out for material on marriage, just in case. She knew that the Restricted Section was primarily to keep dark and dangerous magic out of the hands of younger students, but she had high hopes that she'd uncover _something_ useful, even if it was only contained in notes and oblique references.

She would work all morning, right up until lunch, but when she left she wouldn't have anything to show for her efforts.

* * *

 **Saturday, January 2, 1995, Afternoon.**

When the four Gryffindor friends gathered in the training room that afternoon, it was only the second time they had met to work on the clue supposedly contained in the golden egg. That first time hadn't produced anything but headaches as they kept being assaulted by the egg's screeching, but they were all optimistic that this second meeting would be more productive.

Each had spent time researching a different aspect of the egg in the hope that when everything was brought together, it would at least point them in the right direction. There were still nearly two months to go until the second task, but they were all anxious to help Jasmine get through it.

"Alright," Hermione announced after everyone was seated at a table around the golden egg. "We've all completed our separate research. I don't know how much information you've all dug up, but I have lots and lots of notes about these runes." A collective groan rose up from the others, but Hermione resolutely ignored them and pressed on. "Before we go into the small details, though, we should all just present a summary of what we found. That might help move our discussion in the right direction."

"Agreed," said Neville, anxious to prevent this meeting from becoming an extended lesson on obscure runes. "I'll go first. Put simply, the relief on top of the egg is of a real plant. It's kelp, a plant that grows in water. Most kelp is found in the ocean, but this relief is interesting because it very clearly shows the one species of magical kelp that grows in fresh water."

"So," said Jasmine, "it's unique and specific? Then it's probably not an accident." Neville nodded in agreement and everyone became a bit more attentive, recognizing that they were making real progress already.

"That matches my research," began Hermione. "The runes on the egg do a lot of different things, most probably related to how it functions. What I found noteworthy is how many of them are related to water. In fact, I can't figure out a purpose for some of those water runes. There is a series that protects from fire, which is the opposite of water, but I assumed that was because of the dragon fire. But what do all the water runes do? I don't know."

Hermione was clearly a bit embarrassed at not having found a definitive answer, but what she did have at least confirmed the direction in which Neville's research pointed: that water would play an important role in either discovering the clue or in the task itself.

"I'm afraid my research didn't prove to be quite so helpful," Ginny said as she brought out her notes. "I found that eggs are produced by birds, reptiles, and fish. There is also a mythical animal called a plat-eye-puss that was a mammal which laid eggs, but that doesn't seem relevant. I was thinking..."

"Wait," Hermione interrupted. "Did you say platypus?"

Ginny flipped through her parchment before answering, "Yes, that's it, a platypus. According to the myths, it had a duck's bill, webbed feet, a beaver's tail, hair, was a mammal, laid eggs, and was highly venomous. Luna was with me when I read the story, and she laughed at how ludicrous such a made-up creature was and wondered if anyone had ever been gullible enough to believe in them. That's really saying something, considering..."

Hermione interrupted once again, but this time by repeatedly banging her head on the table.

"Uh, Ginny," Jasmine said a bit hesitantly, "the platypus is real."

"What?" she exclaimed incredulously.

"Yes," explained Hermione, who had stopped banging her head, "It's often called the duck-billed platypus and can only be found on the continent of Australia." Ginny looked at her as if she were mental, so Hermione promised to get a book from the muggle world that would provide evidence and more information.

"Well," Jasmine said, "it seems like the egg itself doesn't point in any particular direction. It is consistent with animals in the water, though, so it doesn't contradict what Neville and Hermione found." Everyone nodded at that, then she continued, "I'm afraid my research was even less helpful than Ginny's. There are a number of different animals that screech when they communicate, especially birds. I didn't find any aquatic animals that did so, but I could go back to focus on that."

The four Gryffindors sat quietly for a few minutes while they considered the evidence.

"The easiest thing to try right now," Neville offered, "might be to just get it wet and see what happens."

"With an _Aguamenti_ charm?" Ginny asked.

"Sure, why not?" replied Neville.

The others agreed, so they cleared a corner of the training room where they could place the egg. After everyone had applied their bubble head charms, Jasmine opened the egg, then backed off a few paces and hit it with an _Aguamenti_ charm. Nothing special happened.

After the egg was closed again, Ginny suggested that they all blast the egg with water at the same time. Since no one had any better ideas yet, Jasmine repeated the earlier process, and this time four _Aguamenti_ charms hit it. Everyone noticed that Jasmine and Hermione produced the strongest charms by far, with Jasmine's being only slightly more powerful than Hermione's.

After the egg was closed again, Hermione said, "I think there might have been some changes in the screeching. I didn't hear anything I recognized, but there was a difference."

"I agree," Ginny said. "So more water helps, but what else can we do?"

"We need to find some way to immerse the egg under water while also being able to listen," Jasmine said. "A tub of water probably wouldn't be large enough. A big bathtub or a pool would be best. It would provide enough space for all of us."

"If only one of us were a prefect," Hermione said, "we'd have access to the prefects' bathroom — I've heard they have a huge tub in there."

"Does anyone know where we'd be able to find a pool or tub..." Jasmine started to ask the room at large when suddenly there was a pop and Dobby was standing beside her. "Huh?" Jasmine said. "Oh! Can you help us, Dobby?"

"Missy Jazzy is needing something?" asked Dobby.

"Well, Dobby, that golden egg," she said, pointing to the dripping egg in the corner, "is supposed to give me a clue that will help me with the second task of the tournament. We haven't figured out how to get the clue yet, but we want to try to submerge the egg in water — preferably in something large enough for at least one of us to be underwater as well so we can hear what happens when we open it. A pool or large tub would be nice, but we can't access the prefect bathroom. Is there anywhere else in the castle we can get something similar?"

Dobby looked to be in deep thought for a minute before abruptly jumping up and down in excitement. "Oh, yes, Missy Jazzy! Dobby knows! Missy Jazzy and friends can use Come and Go Room!"

Jasmine slapped her face with her palm while Hermione asked, "What's that, Dobby?"

"Come and Go Room is being a special Hoggywarty room that be providing whatever is being needed. Hoggywarty elveses also be calling it 'Room of Requirement' sometimes. If you be needing cleaning supplies, room is becoming closet full of cleaning supplies. If you be needing potions lab, room is becoming big potions lab."

Hermione's eyebrows rose in understanding. Looking over at Jasmine she said, "And if you need a room for a romantic dinner, that's what you get?"

Jasmine looked sheepish and said, "Oops."

Turning back to Dobby, Hermione continued, "I remember Dumbledore telling a story during the Yule Ball dinner about discovering a room full of chamber pots, but he could never find it again after that one night. Could that be the same room?"

Dobby nodded his head in agreement, "Yes, Missy Hermy, that be sounding like Come and Go Room."

The other two were smart enough to ignore the annoyed looks Hermione was giving Jasmine. Once they all gathered up their stuff, Dobby led them through the seventh floor corridors to the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy. "Just be walking back and forth three times and be thinking hard of what youse be wanting," Dobby explained.

Hermione tried first, walking back and forth while thinking of a large, heated pool in which they could submerge and listen to the egg. Almost immediately a door appeared, and everyone gaped in amazement when it opened. A large, heated pool was exactly what the room provided.

They were tempted to dive into the pool right then and there, but it was nearing dinner and they needed to spend time later in the evening going over homework. Classes for the new school term started in just 36 hours, and they wanted to be ready. Fortunately they had already intended to come back and keep working on the egg the next morning, so they simply arranged to meet by the Room of Requirement... and to bring swimsuits, too.


	20. I Need a Hero

**Recommendation:** This chapter's recommended fic is "Harry Potter and the Champion's Champion" by DriftWood1965. Harry gives Ron what he wants: the chance to compete in the TriWizard Tournament. It does not go well for him. Not for Ron fans.

* * *

 **Chapter 20 - I Need a Hero**

 **Sunday, January 3, 1995, Morning.**

 ***SPLASH!***

Hermione screamed, half in delight and half in annoyance, as Ginny made another canonball dive into the pool. Hermione had objected at first when the others proposed setting aside the egg in order to enjoy the pool for a while, but it didn't take long for her to start having fun herself. She had explained that her parents had a pool, but she had never had an opportunity to play in it with kids her own age and tended to associate it with summer exercise, not fun and games.

Jasmine had never had any opportunities to use a pool at all — if the Dursleys had had one, they probably would have tried to drown her in it. This inspired Hermione to give Jasmine her first swimming lessons because if the second task had something to do with water, the ability to swim might be necessary. What Hermione didn't mention to Jasmine was that she was already thinking ahead to the coming summer and how much fun they both might have in the Granger family pool — assuming, of course, that Hermione could find a way to get Jasmine over to her house for an extended visit.

 _The Dursleys hate her, so there's no way they would mind, is there?_ she considered. _Maybe they'd prefer if she was gone for a weekend... or maybe even a whole week! Why not? I'm sure I can convince my parents to invite her. They leave me alone all day most days anyway. Then Jasmine and I will have all day together. Her, me, the pool... it'll be perfect!_

When the four Gryffindor friends had gathered together on the seventh floor that morning, they were in an even more optimistic mood than they had been the previous day. Even if they didn't solve the egg that morning, they knew they would have access to a magical room that would certainly be very helpful in the coming months and years.

It hadn't taken long before simply relaxing in the pool had given way to diving in, which in turn gave way to "Marco Polo," a muggle game which Hermione had to explain to the others. Before Hermione realized it, three hours had passed. She wanted to be angry at delaying work for so long, but it was obvious to everyone that she'd had as much fun as everyone else.

Eventually, though, she had to insist that everyone gather around to actually get to work. Holding the egg in the center of the pool, she said, "Since it's your egg, Jasmine, you should do this, just in case the egg needs your magic to work properly. You dunk the egg and open it under water. As soon as it's completely submerged, we'll all take a deep breath and go under ourselves — that way, we'll all be in position to hear what the egg is doing. Does everyone agree?"

The others all nodded, so Hermione gave Jasmine the egg and she proceeded to follow. Once everyone's head was underwater, they were treated to an egg that was no longer screeching; instead, it was singing with a haunting, melodic voice.

After it started to repeat its short song for the second time, everyone came back up gasping for air, and Hermione rushed to the side of the pool where she had left a quill and parchment. "Does everyone remember the song?" she asked. "We need to get it written down so we can study it." With the help of the others, Hermione wrote down what was clearly the egg's clue for the next task:

Come to where we sing our song,  
Do not wait or tarry long,  
That which your heart treasures most,  
Resides down here with us as host,  
You must find what you have lost,  
Or give it up and bear the cost,  
You have one hour and no more,  
Then we'll keep it forever more.

"So," Neville began, "you're going to lose something and you've got to find it. You get an hour, and if you don't find it in that time, you... lose it forever?"

"That hardly seems fair," muttered Ginny.

"We had to have the egg underwater in order to get the clue," Hermione observed, "so I'm guessing Jasmine has to search underwater."

"The Black Lake!" Ginny said excitedly. "That's the only water anywhere near here."

"Right," added Neville. "It's a freshwater lake, so that fits the kelp on the egg. There are merpeople living in the Black Lake. Maybe that was them singing, and they'll be playing 'host' to whatever Jasmine loses."

"Jasmine?" Hermione asked tentatively. Realizing that she hadn't been participating, everyone looked at the champion and found a very troubled look on her face.

"What are they going to take from me?" Jasmine asked in a small voice.

"Maybe your Firebolt?" suggested Ginny.

"That is pretty important," Hermione said thoughtfully, "but Jasmine has other things that mean even more to her, like her father's old cloak. But any of them could be hidden in advance. One of us could even take and hide them in our own stuff."

Neville looked down at the parchment with the song again, then looked up at Jasmine to ask, "What does your heart treasure the most, Jasmine?"

She looked at him for a moment, then her eyes widened, and her head whipped to the side to stare at Hermione. All four were hit by the realization at the same time, and Jasmine started to pale as her mind began to torture her with the implications of the clue. "No," Jasmine said, "no, no, no, no..."

Hermione grabbed her girlfriend in a tight hug and started whispering, "It'll be OK, Jas, don't worry." None of them noticed Ginny fidgeting and looking decidedly uncomfortable with the very open display of affection between two witches wearing only swimsuits.

Neville, for his part, wasn't really paying attention to the two and got a thoughtful look on his face before saying, "Wait a minute — even if they **do** take a person, how do we know for sure that it would be Hermione?"

Pulling back a bit from the embrace, Jasmine turned her head to face him and said a little heatedly, "No offense, Neville, but there's no one I treasure in my heart anywhere close to Hermione! There certainly isn't any **thing** that I treasure as much as her."

"No offense taken," Neville responded, holding up his hands placatingly, "but that's not the point. **We** all know that Hermione means more to you than anyone else, but others **don't** know — including the tournament organizers. So why would they pick her?"

Both Jasmine and Hermione looked back at each other now, and Hermione smiled as she said, "He's right, Jas. Depending on just how ignorant the event organizers are, they could pick any one of the three of us. Ron might even be a contender. Dobby should be, but I doubt they'd even think of him."

Jasmine started biting her bottom lip before responding, "OK, you've got a point, but that only means that you aren't **guaranteed** to be what's taken from me. It doesn't mean you're safe, especially since it won't be hard for the organizers to learn that the two of us have been best friends for so long and that you're closer to me than anyone else. Dumbledore knows, at the very least."

The others sobered a bit at this, realizing that Jasmine was right and that Hermione was still in danger. Maybe they were all potentially in danger, but Hermione was still more at risk than the rest. "Look," Ginny said, "we aren't sure yet that they will take a person, though I'll agree that any decent person will treasure another person more than some possession. And even if a person is taken, should we really believe that they will be lost forever? Is there a reason to think that there's **real** danger to someone who is taken?"

Jasmine looked at Ginny as if she had hit her head. "Ginny, these are the same people who promised to protect the Triwizard Cup yet allowed it to be tampered with so thoroughly that an underaged witch was entered as a fourth champion in a TRI-wizard tournament. And this is happening in the same school where a man was hired to teach defense despite having Voldemort growing out of the back of his head, where a Cerberus was kept behind a door that a firstie could open with a basic unlocking charm, where a basilisk was allowed to roam unchecked for months... need I go on?"

The other three winced at being reminded of just how many dangerous and deadly situations had been allowed to develop at a school that had been touted as the safest place in Britain. No matter what assurances might be offered for the safety of anyone taken hostage for the second task, none of them would believe a word of it. So in addition to coming up with ways for Jasmine to rescue whomever was ultimately taken from her, they also had to develop ways to ensure that they were all protected.

Now it wasn't just Jasmine who was being put in danger by the tournament, it was anyone Jasmine was close to.

This put an end to any more thoughts of frolicking and fun in the pool, which was just as well since it was getting close to lunchtime. Before everyone left, they agreed to split up the research as they had when researching the egg. Neville would research means for breathing underwater, Ginny would review possible dangers in the Black Lake, Hermione would look for spells and other ways of fighting under water, and Jasmine would try to find ways to protect anyone taken hostage.

* * *

 **Sunday, January 3, 1995, Afternoon.**

When Minerva McGonagall welcomed Jasmine and Hermione into her office for their regular Sunday discussion, the two younger witches were still rather depressed from what they had learned earlier in the day. When questioned about their mood, they didn't hesitate to tell her everything. They felt that if she already knew about the task, then it wouldn't hurt to tell her that they knew as well; but if she didn't know about it, then she probably should.

Because of the limitations placed on school staff preventing them from directly helping their champions, Minerva was unable to say anything that would confirm or deny that what the girls had discovered was correct. However, she **could** speak in hypotheticals, so she did her best to ensure that her limited comments would be as useful as possible.

"Do either of you think you might someday have children?" she asked. Noting the confused looks on their faces, she continued, "If so, be sure to study up on how to keep your children safe. Magical parents have access to quite a few spells that can help them protect their offspring — for example, tracking charms that monitor a child's location and even health. Young children have a tendency to wander off, and you want to be sure you can track them down as quickly as possible before they can get hurt."

Hermione immediately smiled and pulled out a quill and parchment so she could take notes on their professor's advice — one never knew when it might be useful someday.

"If you expect to travel with your children, such tracking and monitoring charms can be very useful," Minerva continued. "Speaking of travel, I recommend that someday you take a trip to the beach. It can be a lot of fun for the whole family, especially if you can go underwater to see the fish and plants which live beneath the waves. There are several options available to you to help with that; a good book on magical travel destinations should have some relevant information. Such a book should also have information on how to defend yourself against any hostile animals you might find underwater, but proficiency at silent spell casting would be important when it comes to that."

And so it went, with Minerva offering valuable advice on things they might one day do in the future, and Hermione taking copious notes. That is, so it went until Jasmine asked a difficult question: "Professor McGonagall, champions are forced to participate, but what about everyone else in the three schools? Can any of them be forced? Or can they simply refuse to participate in any way?"

Both Minerva and Hermione were a bit taken aback by this, but in retrospect it was the obvious question to ask. If non-champions could refuse to participate, then protecting them would be a lot easier; if they couldn't, then the schools could put them in danger against the wishes of both themselves and their guardians or parents.

"I don't know, Miss Potter, but I will try to find out," Minerva answered, her voice a mixture of both curiosity and concern.

"Thank you," the young witch said. Looking over at her girlfriend, she continued, "If it's at all possible, I don't want Hermione anywhere near this task. Or the tournament as a whole, for that matter. It's bad enough that I have to participate — I don't want her to be put in any danger simply because of her association with me."

"I'm sure my parents wouldn't give permission for me to participate and be put at risk," Hermione added, "though I wonder if they would even be asked, since I'm only a **muggleborn**." She practically spat that last word, effectively communicating what she thought of the attitudes of so many magicals. Minerva agreed wholeheartedly with both the young witches, but wasn't sure if she would be able to get the necessary information. She had yet to even locate a copy of the official tournament rules.

When Jasmine and Hermione left later that afternoon, both were feeling a little more optimistic than they had been when they arrived. They still had quite a few problems that they needed to solve, but they had a better idea now where to start looking for solutions and still had nearly two months before they needed to be ready.

* * *

 **Sunday, January 3, 1995, Evening.**

After dinner, Hermione acted completely out of character by dragging Jasmine away from last-minute checks of homework in order to spend some time relaxing. When told to grab her swimsuit, Jasmine assumed that Hermione wanted to try out the pool again, but Hermione had come up with what she thought would be a far better idea. It all hinged on just how good the Room of Requirement was in scanning a person's mind to provide what they needed.

When the two arrived at the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy, Hermione said she would take care of creating the room. After pacing the necessary three times, she motioned to Jasmine to stay there while she opened the door to examine the results. Ohhh, yes — that would do very nicely indeed.

Grinning, she beckoned Jasmine to enter and said with a flourish, "Welcome to the Hot Tub Grotto!"

"What is it, Hermione?" Jasmine asked with bewilderment in her voice.

"Well, Jas," Hermione explained, "I wanted us to spend a little time just relaxing in a hot tub. However, I'm not sure how well the Room of Requirement can produce modern muggle machines, if it can at all. So I asked the room to create something natural that will function in a similar way. So we have a grotto here like we might find in a cave, and over in the corner is a pool with hot water that has bubbles and jets of pressurized water. All of it is theoretically possible in nature, even if very unlikely."

"Wow," Jasmine said as she drank in the atmosphere of a cave-like room that had small clouds of steam drifting through the air.

"Get changed," Hermione called out from a far corner that evidently served as a changing area. Jasmine found a second one, and soon both girls were stepping gingerly into the hot pool, where they found surprisingly comfortable stone seats. Both leaned back a little, draping their arms across the edge of the pool, and moaned in simultaneous relief as the jets of warm water began to work their magic.

"Hermione," Jasmine said slowly, "this may be your best idea ever." Hermione just smiled, knowing that she wasn't done yet. After about twenty minutes the warm water and jets had sufficiently relaxed both witches, so Hermione took the opportunity to move over until she was sitting in her girlfriend's lap.

Their swimsuits weren't risque, but the two witches still had far more skin touching than they ever had before -before their hug earlier that morning, that is, which was part of how Hermione had gotten her idea for the grotto. This, combined with the warm water, caused them both to very quickly start feeling hot, despite the fact that they were doing nothing more than cuddling and a bit of light kissing. The heat started in their faces as they realized just how much skin was touching and it soon moved south, settling in their lower abdomens in a way that was both very pleasant and very frustrating.

As Hermione had expected, Jasmine's opinion of her idea shot through the roof once the bushy-haired witch settled in her lap, and it just kept climbing after that. The time they spent together that evening rivaled their New Year's celebration and was so engrossing that they barely made it back to the Gryffindor common room before curfew.

 _We are definitely doing that again_ , Hermione thought to herself. _And soon!_

* * *

 **Sunday, January 3, 1995, Evening.**

In a run-down muggle manor house in Little Hangleton, a blackened, ugly, disgusting baby-thing was screaming in pain and had been doing so since around dinnertime. It was amazing that it hadn't ruptured its vocal chords or passed out from the exertion, yet somehow it kept going. Tom Riddle, whose soul's tattered remnants had taken up residence in the baby-thing, had never experienced pain like this — and he'd been having regular bouts of similar, inexplicable pain since early in December.

Only the pain on New Year's Eve had come anywhere close, and he'd been unable to think of any cause for his suffering, despite his prodigious intellect and unsurpassed knowledge of magic. _We are Lord Voldemort!_ he shouted defiantly in his mind. _We are the greatest wizard to ever live! Nothing should be affecting Us like this, nothing!_

The best idea he could come up with was that this was some sort of side-effect of creating this homunculus — something that hadn't been spelled out in the notes on the ritual he used. He had his doubts about whether this was true, but it was the only thing he could think of. If it were true, though, it might mean that this homunculus wasn't as stable as he had anticipated, which in turn meant that he might have to move up his plans for acquiring a new body.

Since he couldn't adequately explain or stop the pain, all he could do was use the _Cruciatus_ curse on Wormtail. It didn't actually dull his own agony, but he enjoyed casting that curse enough that it distracted him a little bit. Unfortunately, the last time did that he had held the curse for a bit too long, and Wormtail was now catatonic and drooling into the carpet. Only time would tell if the condition was permanent. Wormtail was useless enough that Riddle normally wouldn't care, but right now he was the only help he had, so he couldn't afford to lose him.

 _Hmmm..._ Riddle mused to himself between bouts of pain. _Maybe We need to rectify that._

* * *

 **Sunday, January 3, 1995, Night.**

It had taken Albus Dumbledore all weekend to to get through the mail that had piled up on his desk over the previous week, but he had finally finished that evening. As happy as he was to complete that task before the new term could technically start, he wasn't really in a good mood. Located within the piles of mail had been an item which greatly troubled him: a letter from Gringotts to Jasmine Potter.

When she was still an infant, Dumbledore had used a spell on her which redirected all but approved owl post from her to him. At the time, of course, no post from magical sources had been approved, completely cutting the toddler off from all communication with magical society. He had known that her muggle aunt and uncle wouldn't have tolerated the masses of magical mail that their niece would receive, even if it had all been just fan mail. He certainly didn't want any of them to suffer from the various items that came through with curses and hexes.

Technically speaking he probably didn't have the legal authority to take such action. He might have been able to get the legal authority if he had sought it, but that would have required revealing too much to the Ministry of Magic about Miss Potter's whereabouts and circumstances. Sooner or later — and probably sooner — that information would have ended up in the wrong hands, like those of some of Tom's servants who had escaped punishment.

So what he did really was for the best all around.

When Miss Potter returned to the magical world, the headmaster slowly started approving various senders so that she could get owl post from them — the Weasleys and Hogwarts itself, for example. He decided, however, that she still didn't need to be burdened with all the fan mail, and she was certainly too unskilled to handle the continued influx of cursed and hexed mail.

It was still the best choice, he was confident.

Gringotts was not on Dumbledore's list of approved senders. He didn't believe that a girl so young and raised in the muggle world needed to be bothered with either the goblins or the complexities of finance. _Even I have trouble understanding some of what her regular bank statements contain_ , he thought, _so what's the point of passing them along to an even less knowledgeable young witch? It's not like she can do anything with any of the money outside her trust vault anyway, and I'd rather not inflict that distraction on her._

Now, though, something completely new had been sent to Miss Potter by the bank: a notification of an audit. _Why would they be conducting an audit_ , he wondered, _and why would they be contacting her about that? Did they find something wrong? I do hope no one has been interfering with her accounts — goblin policies being what they are, I'd have difficulty intervening on her behalf, even if it's one of the darker families trying to illegally access her money._

Dumbledore looked over at the various magical devices he used to monitor and keep track of Jasmine Potter. So far, none had reported any trips to Gringotts or indeed anywhere outside the castle except for Hogsmeade. Well, not at any point in time while he had been in his office, and it was unlikely that she'd be able to make such a trip when he was taking a meal or walking through the castle.

That still left any number of unknown reasons for why the audit had been launched, however, and Dumbledore didn't like being kept ignorant of such matters.

 _Is this the beginning of something significant,_ he asked himself, _or just the result of an accounting error? Tom will be back sooner or later and I can't afford to miss anything that might work to his benefit. I was called the Brightest Wizard of the Age when I was young,_ he thought tiredly, _but Merlin knows, I'm fallible._ _And the consequences of making a mistake at this point could be disastrous..._

He briefly considered forging a letter from Miss Potter to Gringotts to ask for more information, but quickly discarded the idea. The goblins took a very dim view of such acts, and he didn't think the current situation warranted such a risk. _It looks like I'll have to wait and see what their next letter says_ , he concluded resignedly, _but in the meantime I'll have to keep closer tabs on Miss Potter, just in case this is part of a larger, nefarious plot to get to her or her gold._

Dumbledore's musings were interrupted by a notification from the gargoyle guarding the entrance to his office that Severus Snape was coming up the stairs. "Come in, Severus," he called out when his potions professor knocked on his door. Snape scowled as he entered, and Dumbledore guessed that he was annoyed at how the Headmaster always seemed to know who was at his door even before they knocked. How he did so wasn't exactly a secret, but he didn't make a point of telling anyone, either. It was too useful of a tool.

"Please, have a seat Severus," the Headmaster said in his kind, grandfatherly voice as Snape strode towards the headmaster's large, ornate desk. "Sherbet lemon?" he asked, as he held out a dish of the sweet candies which he invariably offered everyone who came to his office.

"No, thank you, Headmaster," Snape replied, plainly bewildered as always as to why the other man insisted on offering him the sickly-sweet candies when he continually refused them.

"Well, what brings you to my office at this late hour?" Dumbledore asked as he took one of the candies himself and popped it into his mouth.

"It concerns the Dark Mark," Snape said.

"Dear me," the Headmaster said softly, his eyes losing some of their customary twinkle and his demeanor turning somber. "Perhaps you'd care for something stronger than a sherbet lemon, then?"

"Yes, please, that would be appreciated," came the reply, a bit of weariness edging into Snape's voice.

Dumbledore rose from his large, ornate chair and moved to a table at the side of the room where he kept a bottle of old firewhiskey and several crystal glasses. _Curious_ , he thought, eyeing the level in the bottle, _I didn't realize I was so low._ He shrugged. _Ah, well — another victim of these dark times, I suppose. I must remember to send for more._ After he poured a generous measure of the amber liquid for his Potions professor, he returned to his desk and set the glass in front of the other man before sitting back down.

Dumbledore waited for Snape to take a drink and then for the steam to stop streaming from his ears before resuming their conversation. "Is it Karkaroff? Has he come to complain to you about his Mark again?"

"No, Headmaster," Snape answered, "not since the night of the Yule Ball when we argued outside in the garden. He is, however, looking more and more nervous every time I see him."

"I suppose you're still convinced that he'll run when Tom returns?" the older man asked, already knowing the answer.

"Yes, and even more so now." Snape replied.

"Then what is it?" the Headmaster asked, growing more curious about what the problem could be.

Snape set down his glass and frowned as he pulled up his left sleeve to reveal his Dark Mark, inscribed into his skin by Lord Voldemort more than fifteen years ago. "The Mark is... behaving oddly."

"Behaving?" Dumbledore asked with a frown. "I wasn't aware that the Mark could 'behave' in any manner at all."

"Indeed," Snape said, extending his arm across the desk, "but that's the best description I can offer for what's happening. It's still getting darker, as before, but it's also a little reddish at times."

Dumbledore pushed his half-moon spectacles up higher on his crooked nose as he bent close to examine the other man's arm. "Yes…" he said slowly, "I can see what you mean. There is just a bit of red in there. Has this ever happened before, either while Tom still had his body or after that Halloween?"

"No, Headmaster," Snape replied. "I've neither experienced nor heard of anything like it, though I've been reluctant to ask any of my former associates about it."

Dumbledore nodded in understanding as he continued to study the mark.

"But that's not all," Snape added. The Headmaster looked up from the mark to his Potions professor. "More and more in recent weeks... since early or mid December, I think... it's been... bothering me. Itching, burning, and even occasionally sharp pain. It doesn't happen all the time, but it has been happening more often."

"How curious," the Headmaster said as he sat up straight. "And you don't know what might be causing this?"

"No…" Snape said slowly.

"Any speculations?" Dumbledore prodded, suspecting that he had more to say.

"Well," Snape began, "the Dark Lord was capable of causing pain and discomfort through his mark, whether to punish or to summon us. But that required him to have access to another Mark on one of his servants to use as a conduit. And full use of his magic to power the signal, I believe — he never did any other magic at the same time and always had to concentrate fully on it."

"It is possible that he has at least one servant with him," Dumbledore observed.

"That is true, and I wouldn't necessarily have heard anything," Snape agreed, "But I'm not sure how he would have the ability to cause such effects when he's not... recovered enough to bring the Dark Mark all the way back."

The Headmaster took off his spectacles and leaned back in his chair to consider what the other man had said. "That is a most curious set of facts," he finally admitted. "I'm afraid that I have no special insights into why this might be happening. I was never able to learn as much about how the Dark Mark functions as I wanted to. I suspect that whatever is causing you distress in your Mark cannot be good for Tom, though, and that's probably something to be glad about. Beyond that.…" The Headmaster trailed off, not sure what else to say at this point.

"I know," Snape said with a hint of resignation before he quickly finished off his firewhiskey and belched a bit of flame. "I just wanted to make you aware of what was happening."

"Thank you, Severus, I do appreciate all you have to endure," the headmaster replied sympathetically. "Do let me know as soon as anything new occurs, will you?"

"Of course, Headmaster," Snape said as he rose from his seat. After giving the older man a curt nod, he strode out of the office and back to his private quarters in the dungeons, leaving Albus Dumbledore alone with his thoughts.

 _What are you doing, Tom?_ he wondered. _What exactly do you have planned?_


	21. I've Got the Power!

**Recommendation:** This chapter's recommended fic is "An Inconvenient Truth" by old-crow. After third year, Amelia Bones decides to investigate what happened to Harry Potter, discovering the truth about his home life. Harry/Susan.

* * *

 **Chapter 21 - I've Got the Power!**

 **Monday, January 4, 1995, Morning.**

The first day of classes for the spring term meant that everyone was very preoccupied at breakfast. Some were excited to start classes again. Some were bemoaning the fact that the holidays were over. Some were still asleep, only going through the motions of eating breakfast. Others, including Jasmine, Hermione, Neville, and Ginny, were focused on the _Daily Prophet_ article about Hagrid's giant ancestry. All in all, it was a fairly normal start-of-term breakfast.

No one paid any attention to the owl that flew down to the Ravenclaw table and landed in front of Fleur Delacour. Even if they had, they couldn't have known how much she had been looking forward to receiving this response from her family, nor the chain of events it would set in motion, nor how it would ultimately help cause major changes not only in Britain's magical community, but also and magical communities around the world.

Not even Fleur was aware of any of that. All she cared about was the fact that she was finally going to get some answers to questions that had been plaguing her almost since she arrived at Hogwarts. By the time she found enough privacy later that morning to read it, though, she was both disappointed and intrigued.

She was disappointed because she didn't get any of the answers she had been expecting. According to her mother and grandmother, all the evidence and observations she described did indeed point to a powerful connection at work between the two witches. They did not, however, explain what this connection was or how they knew it.

Fleur was intrigued because of the great interest that her mother and grandmother showed in the two witches. In fact, they sounded almost desperate that Fleur contact the girls and make time to talk to them about their connection. She was also instructed to give the two English witches a basic overview of the veela history and customs — including some facts that were normally kept secret and never revealed to outsiders.

 _If I didn't know better_ , Fleur mused to herself, _I'd almost think that Maman and Grandmere were preparing to come here to meet those two themselves. But why are they so interested? Why are these two English witches so special? Ah, well, I guess the only way to find out is to take the time to talk to them, just as I've been told to do._

* * *

Jasmine and Hermione unconsciously drew closer together as their first Herbology lesson of the spring term wound down. In the past, lessons with the Hufflepuffs had typically been pleasant because the 'Puffs themselves were pleasant and easygoing — certainly nothing like the Slytherins. Last term, however, saw that change because the general hostility towards Jasmine was much worse than average among students in Helga's house. Hufflepuffs resented the fact that their own champion, Cedric Diggory, was being upstaged by a Gryffindor, and Jasmine couldn't really blame them.

That was last term, though. Today, the 'Puffs were all acting... oddly. They weren't throwing off the same hostile vibes and glares that Jasmine and Hermione had become accustomed to, but they weren't acting friendly, either. Neither witch could quite put their finger on what the looks they were getting meant, but the change made them nervous, which was why they stayed close to each other. Despite not having been the target of Hufflepuff hostility last term, Neville still recognized that his two friends were uneasy, so he tried to keep an eye out for trouble.

As they were leaving at the end of the lesson, the three Gryffindors were approached by two of the Hufflepuffs who had been giving them funny looks: Susan Bones and Hannah Abbott. "Potter?" Susan asked. "Can we talk to you for a minute?"

Neville and Hermione shifted just a bit closer to Jasmine as she responded cooly, "I suppose. What do you want, Bones?"

Flinching at the tone, and not unaware of how the other two became protective of Jasmine, Susan fidgeted, exchanged looks with Hannah, and kept staring at her shoes. Finally, she began, "Hannah and I wanted to apologize for how we've treated you and for thinking that you cheated to get into the Tournament. We don't think that anymore. In fact, we haven't really thought that for a little while now."

Surprised by the sudden apology, but still not in a very forgiving mood, Jasmine responded, "Why?"

Confused, Hannah asked, "Why what?"

"Why are you apologizing?" Jasmine clarified, without softening her tone. "And why are you apologizing now if, as you say, you changed your minds about me a while ago?"

Looking uncomfortable, Susan tried to explain, "Because it's the right thing to do. We should have done it last month, if not sooner, but at first we were too embarrassed at what we had done. As time went on, we became even more ashamed at not having acted sooner. Eventually it became easier to ignore what we had done, even though it wasn't fair to you."

"And now?" Jasmine asked.

Taking a deep breath, Susan said, "Last night, Cedric gave our entire house a real bollicking over how we've all treated you. He insisted that you hadn't cheated, that you never wanted to be in this tournament, and that you didn't deserve the hostility you've been getting. He made Hannah and me feel even worse than we already did, but he also made us face how awful we've been for not apologizing sooner. So, here we are."

Jasmine's face softened a bit and Hermione spoke up, saying, "Are you here as representatives of your house?"

"No," Hannah said, shaking her head. "We're only speaking for ourselves. Others will hopefully come around too, but of course some won't be able to let go of their resentment."

"Also," Susan added, "we don't expect you to instantly forgive us or anything like that. We hope you will eventually, but we know we have to earn it, and simply saying 'sorry' isn't enough. That's why we'll make a point of telling others about our change of heart and that we've apologized. It's the least we can do to demonstrate we're sorry. If there is anything else we can do, just tell us." Both Hufflepuff witches had hopeful but nervous smiles on their faces, looking for some sign that their olive branch was being accepted.

Neville and Hermione looked at Jasmine, waiting to take their cue from her. Jasmine kept looking from Susan to Hannah and back again, trying to discern how sincere they were. Finally coming to a decision, she said, "You're right, I can't instantly forgive and forget. But I am willing to try. Believe it or not, I completely understand why Hufflepuffs would resent me: you don't deserve having someone take attention away from Cedric. That doesn't justify how people have acted, but I understand the feeling behind it. Also, we didn't know each other well before, so it's not hard to see why you might suspect me of cheating. You didn't have much that would tell you otherwise."

"So maybe we should correct that," interjected Neville. The witches all gave him a questioning look, so he went on, "If knowing each other better could have prevented all the hostility, then the solution is, well, to start getting to know each other better. Right?"

Susan smiled and said, "That's a great idea. Any suggestions?"

"Starting small would be easiest," Hermione offered. "How about meeting once or twice a week for studying and a little general conversation?"

"Hufflepuffs already have regular study group meetings," said Hanna, "but we can make time to just meet with you. How about Tuesdays and Thursdays after dinner? Maybe for an hour or two? That would fit our schedule best."

As it turned out, those times worked best for the Gryffindors as well. Before they parted, Jasmine decided to take one more decisive step towards reconciliation. Susan and Hannah had swallowed their pride enough to apologize, so she could do something similar. Stepping forward, she held out her hand and said, "Hi, I'm Jasmine Potter. No fancy titles or anything like that. Just Jasmine." Susan's and Hannah's faces both brightened, and they went along with it, introducing themselves not only to Jasmine but the others as well.

* * *

 **Monday, January 4, 1995, Late Morning.**

Muttering to herself as they walked through the castle to lunch, Jasmine was in an especially foul mood. "I can't believe Malfoy," she repeated to Neville and Hermione for the umpteenth time.

"I know, Jasmine," Hermione responded patiently, "Malfoy was being his usual, horrid self. But why didn't you talk back like you started doing recently?"

Jasmine stopped abruptly and said peevishly, "With all the stuff happening in the last few days, when have I had time to — " She broke off abruptly and reined in her temper with a visible effort. "Sorry. Didn't mean to snap at you. I appreciate," she tried again, "that you think my devastating wit comes so effortlessly to me, but I'm afraid it takes some time to come up with the best ones," she finished with a self-mocking grin. "Of course, if you'd just let me hex the snot out of him..."

Before Hermione could answer, they all heard someone call out to them from a nearby alcove. When they peered into the shadows, they could make out the form of Fleur Delacour. Confused but curious, they decided to walk over to see what she could want. The last time the French champion had talked to Jasmine, she had called her a "leetle girl," so she wasn't expecting much from this second encounter.

"Excusez moi, but I would like to talk to you two," Fleur said, motioning to the two witches, "in private. When would be a good time and place to meet?"

The Gryffindors looked at each other before Jasmine answered, "What is this about, exactly?"

Fleur seemed very reluctant to say anything, then looked around before responding, "It eez very private and personal — for **you two**." She clearly emphasized the last two words while looking into Jasmine's and Hermione's eyes.

Hermione started to get upset and demanded, "What do you know? How do you.…"

"Peace!" Fleur said quickly, holding up her empty hands. "I am veela and we can see...connections between people. I know zis eez very personal and I might be able to 'elp. But zis is not ze place to talk of such zings."

Calmer now, Hermione nodded, then looked at Jasmine. "Saturday? Our room?" Jasmine agreed, then so did Neville.

"Non," Fleur said quickly when she saw Neville nod his head. "Zis is only for you two. For ze witches. Some of what I 'ave to say is usually kept zecret among ze veela. It eez enough zat I am telling you. I cannot tell a wizard."

Even more curious now than they were before, Jasmine and Hermione agreed. Neville looked unhappy about the idea of leaving either of his two friends alone with someone they knew so little about, but Hermione laid a reassuring hand on his arm and he relaxed. "Meet us at the end of lunch outside the Great Hall," Hermione said. "We'll take you someplace private where we can talk."

"Zank you," Fleur responded. "You won't regret zis." She then trotted off, constantly looking around to see if she was being watched.

"That was... bizarre," Neville said.

"True," Jasmine replied. "But potentially interesting."

"Maybe," Neville conceded, "but are you sure you want to meet with her alone? We don't know anything about her."

"I wouldn't worry too much," Jasmine said. "There are two of us, and you'll know where we are if something happens."

"We need to learn more about veela before we go into that meeting," Hermione added. Both her friends could only nod their heads in agreement.

* * *

 **Tuesday, January 5, 1995, Morning.**

While leaving breakfast on the second morning of spring term classes, Jasmine, Hermione, and Neville were stopped by Cedric Diggory, who wanted to talk to them.

"This is turning into a pattern," Jasmine muttered as they stepped away from the Great Hall doors.

"What?" Diggory asked, a confused look on his face.

"Nothing," Jasmine insisted with a shake of her head. "Never mind. What can we do for you?" Jasmine and Hermione were much less stiff with Diggory than they had been with the two Hufflepuff witches the previous day. That was partly because of what he had said to his house and partly because he himself had never bad-mouthed them, at least as far as they knew. He hadn't gone out of his way to be friendly, but unlike so many he hadn't been overtly hostile, either.

Cedric looked at the three younger students, unsure about what was going on with them, but he decided to forge ahead with his original plan. "Potter," he said, "have you solved your egg yet? If not, I can help with some advice.…"

"It's OK, Diggory," Jasmine replied quickly. "We put it under water and we got the clue."

"Excellent," Cedric said with a relieved smile. "Just in case you hadn't heard, I told off most of my house the other day about the way they've been treating you. It really wasn't right. I had previously tried talking to a few people privately, but it wasn't doing any good. So I called a big meeting and yelled. It seemed to help."

"Yes, it did," Hermione said. "Thanks. We appreciate it."

Cedric smiled broadly again and turned to go, but he stopped dead when Jasmine asked, "Who do you think they are going to take for you?"

"What?" Cedric asked, even more confused now than he was before.

"Who are they going to take?" Jasmine repeated. "Who's your heart's greatest treasure?"

"Wh-who?" Cedric asked, going pale as a sheet. "You mean, they intend to take a _person_? But the clue talks about 'what,' not about 'who'!"

"That's true, Diggory," Hermione responded, "but objects can be hidden. People, especially students, can be easily found. What's more, people are more precious than material goods, aren't they?"

Cedric gaped as he recognized the truth behind that argument. "Are you sure?" he finally asked, his voice almost a whisper.

"No," Jasmine admitted. "There's no way to be sure. But can you afford to take the chance? Can you afford to leave someone you treasure at risk?"

"Surely there wouldn't be any real risk, would there?" Cedric objected.

"No real risk?" Neville scoffed. "This is the same school that let a basilisk run around unchecked for nearly a year."

"Ba-ba-basilisk?" Cedric stammered in horror. "That really was a basilisk? I thought people were just, you know, telling stories..."

"Down, Neville," Jasmine said under her breath. "Don't break the poor boy." Turning back to Cedric, she continued, "Diggory, we're going to be researching ways to protect anyone who might be taken as a hostage. We recommend you do the same."

When Cedric nodded, Jasmine continued, "If you'd like, we can meet in a couple of weeks to compare notes. We may be competitors, but if hostages are taken then it's not about us anymore, it's about protecting the people we care about. That's more important than winning any tournament, yeah?"

Cedric looked at Jasmine as if he'd never seen her before. "Yeah," he said slowly, nodding his head. "You're absolutely right. Thanks for saying that. What about the other two champions?"

"We'll talk to them over the next week," Jasmine responded. "We should have plenty of time to figure something out."

"Right," Cedric said. He held out his hand to shake with Jasmine. "Thanks, Potter, you're really alright."

"Thanks, and it's Jasmine," she replied.

"And it's Cedric," he said back, smiling. "See you later."

After he had walked away, Hermione turned to Jasmine and said, "That was a really good idea, Jas."

"Thanks," Jasmine answered as they resumed their walk to History of Magic. "I started thinking about it after we talked to Fleur yesterday. If she turns out to be OK, then maybe we'll have a civil relationship or better with all the champions, which means we may all be able to work together. Cedric will, obviously. I'll bet Viktor will, too. That just leaves Fleur."

Neville nodded in understanding. "Good plan," he said. "If you four work together, you stand a better chance of rescuing any hostages without anyone getting hurt."

"Exactly," Jasmine said. "I never wanted to be in this stupid tournament to begin with, so not winning doesn't matter to me. I'll happily sacrifice all my points in exchange for protecting innocent bystanders who also didn't volunteer to be part of this."

As they turned the first corner, they almost ran into Mad-Eye Moody, who seemed to be standing there as if waiting for someone. "So, Potter," he said, "figured out the egg have you," making it clear that he must have been listening to their conversation with Cedric.

"Uh, yes, Professor Moody," Jasmine answered a little nervously.

"Good job, then," he said, "and good job on trying to work with Cedric, too. You do Hogwarts proud." With that, he stomped off, his wooden leg clacking against the stone floor and his magical eye spinning wildly.

"He creeps me out," Hermione said quietly.

"You're not the only one," Jasmine responded as Neville nodded his head in agreement.

* * *

 **Tuesday, January 5, 1995, Late Morning.**

The first Transfiguration class of the spring term was interesting, to say the least. Their lesson was on the _Ebublio_ jinx, a jinx which created a bubble around the target. As Professor McGonagall explained, this jinx fell under the category of transfiguration because the bubble was created out of nothing, making it a form of conjuration which was a subset of transfiguration.

According to Professor McGonagall, a properly cast _Ebublio_ jinx would create a bubble large enough to encompass the entire target, permeable enough to allow them to breathe, durable enough to last at least an hour, and strong enough to not break through physical force alone — it would require either a magical spell or magically enhanced physical strength to break it. How much power or strength was required depended on the power of the caster.

Jasmine, Hermione, and Neville all recognized the potential value this spell had in a fight and thus the potential value to Jasmine in the tournament — including possibly during the second task, if the spell could be made to work under water. This made them all especially eager to learn how to do this spell properly as fast as possible.

The results, at least for Jasmine and Hermione, exceeded all expectations.

Whereas most students got misshapen bubbles at best, all of which were easily popped, Jasmine and Hermione successfully created large, strong bubbles around their transfigured mice almost from their first attempts.

"Excellent work, Miss Granger and Miss Potter," Professor McGonagall said as she came by their table to check their progress. "Five points each to Gryffindor for being the first to get the spell right."

"Professor," Hermione said in a low voice, "does this spell work only in the open air, or can it be used... in other environments?"

"It can be used almost anywhere, Miss Granger," came the reply, "though it's most easily cast in the open air. Other environments usually require more power and concentration, because those bubbles are usually cast with the intention of having the air automatically refreshed, like with the bubble head charm." The small, quick smile that accompanied this answer told Hermione that this jinx hadn't been chosen for the day's lesson for purely pedagogical reasons.

"Now, the bubble can be eliminated with any number of concussive or piercing hexes and curses, but that wouldn't be very good for your mice. A simple _Finite_ will also do the trick, though it must be cast with more power than the original bubble was created with. I'll take care of it this time so I can get a sense for how solid your bubbles are." With that, Professor McGonagall pointed her wand at Hermione's bubble and said " _Finite Incantatem!_ "

Nothing happened.

Professor McGonagall blinked a couple of times then tried the same with Jasmine's bubble.

Again, nothing happened.

Raising an eyebrow, she said, "It looks like your bubbles are too strong for a weak _Finite_. Surprising, but excellent work. Take another five points each." Professor McGonagall then repeated the spell, but this time a brighter light surged from her wand.

Hermione's bubble flickered slightly, but that was all. Jasmine's bubble stubbornly refused to react.

Professor McGonagall raised both eyebrows now and started to look concerned. Focusing herself, she repeated the spell, speaking more firmly than before and causing a significantly brighter light to come out and hit the target bubble. Hermione's bubble flickered and disappeared, allowing the mouse to make a break for it. Jasmine's bubble flickered for a couple of seconds before finally, almost grudgingly, disappearing, and her mouse seemed too scared to try to run.

Fortunately, most of the rest of the students had been more concerned with their own work to notice what was going on. Before moving to the next table, Professor McGonagall told them quietly, "Read for the rest of the lesson and see me afterwards."

Jasmine and Hermione gave each other a worried glance, wondering what they had done and why McGonagall looked so concerned.

* * *

After the lesson was over and the rest of the class had left, Professor McGonagall closed, locked, and silenced the door. She then gave the two young witches an appraising look. "What you did today... you should not have been able to do. It's not just that you got the spell right the first time. That's unusual, but not impossible for good students. No, what I mean is the strength of the spells you cast. Did either of you consciously put a lot of power behind the spells when you cast them? Did either of you feel a little tired or drained afterwards?

Jasmine and Hermione both shook their heads. "What do you mean, the strength of our spells?" Hermione asked.

"When I first tried to dispel your bubbles," Professor McGonagall explained, "I used a low-power _Finite_. That should have been enough for any bubble created by an average student at your level. Next I used a medium-power _Finite_. That should have been enough for an advanced student at your level or most students up through seventh year. Finally I used a very strong _Finite_ — not the most powerful I could cast, but a strong one nonetheless. It was a near thing that it worked, too, especially on your bubble, Miss Potter."

Their professor studied them thoughtfully before continuing, "Looking at your faces right now, I find myself wondering if this isn't really news to either of you. Tell me, what do you know?"

Looking a bit embarrassed, Jasmine said, "Well, before the hols I thought that some of my spells were coming out a bit stronger. I wasn't sure, though. It was happening only just before last term ended, and as you know I was very distracted by other things."

Hermione jumped in at this point, saying, "Neville, Ginny, and I noticed that she seemed to have more power when... well, when it looked like she was going to destroy a classroom in a bout of anger-induced accidental magic."

McGonagall gaped at this news and sat down heavily in the nearest chair.

"We weren't sure what was going on," Hermione hastened to add, "So we were going to keep an eye on Jasmine and the spells she cast to see if there was indeed a noticeable increase in power. I wouldn't have said so today, merely because we both got the spell right the first time, but I guess I would have been wrong."

Jasmine added, "Now that you mention that, I wonder if perhaps I was putting more power behind my spells before the holidays than I realized. Maybe there were cases where it simply wasn't obvious to either of us?" Hermione nodded in agreement at that idea, then both witches noticed that their professor was still silent... silent and in a bit of shock.

"Professor?" Jasmine asked tentatively.

"Tell me," McGonagall finally got out, "what do you mean by 'almost destroyed a classroom'?"

"Well," Jasmine started, "we meet in an unused classroom to train and practice. I got some potentially bad news and we went there to discuss it. I lost my temper and..."

Hermione cut in, saying, "The walls of the classroom rumbled, and we could almost see the power rolling off Jasmine. I... well... I had to kiss her to interrupt whatever cycle of anger she had going on. As a matter of fact, now that I'm thinking about it, I wonder if I absorbed a little of the magic she had built up, because I felt a bit stronger for a while after."

Professor McGonagall shook her head then rested it in one of her hands for a few moments.

When she looked back at her students, she could tell they didn't understand her distress. "First," she explained, "no one should have enough power to cause any walls in this castle to shudder or rumble. The walls are too thick, too old, and imbued with too much magic. I suppose the Headmaster might be able to if he were to really let loose, but the fact that you might be able to do so — and in a fit of accidental magic which you shouldn't be having anymore — is both astounding and disturbing."

"Second," she continued, "that both of you can direct so much power in a conscious, deliberate manner like you did earlier during the lesson is also astonishing. I shouldn't have trouble dispelling any spell you could cast, but I did. If you're this powerful as fourth years, what will you be like as seventh years? Finally, you only talk about Miss Potter having displayed extra power, but it's clear that you, Miss Granger, have similar power. Did you not notice anything before?"

Hermione's eyes widened at that question — she had been so focused on Jasmine that she completely forgot that the earlier lesson had revealed her to be about as powerful herself. "No, professor," she answered, "I haven't noticed anything like that."

"And do you think that it's a coincidence that this is happening to both of you? Now?" their professor asked.

Now Jasmine's eyes widened and she asked, "I... I don't know. What do you think?"

Taking a deep breath, Professor McGonagall said, "I'm not sure, but that's not actually the biggest issue facing us. Most important is that this extra power creates a problem. Two problems, actually. The amount of power you can bring to bear means that you will more easily get what you want out of a spell, even if you don't quite perform the incantation or wand movements correctly. The first problem, then, is academic: this encourages laziness. If you don't get the details right, you may not even notice; and if you do, you may not feel the need to fix things because you are getting the results you want."

"The second problem," she continued, "is that of safety. Your extra power means that if anything goes wrong, it can go wrong in much, much worse ways — ways that you won't easily be able to fix if you don't know how." She paused for a moment to think, then went on, "The academic problem can be fixed if you pay closer attention to the details of your spell casting. I think I can rely on you, Miss Granger, to take care of that?" Hermione nodded vigorously.

"Good," McGonagall said, "that's one down. Safety will be harder to deal with. I'm afraid that I don't want you casting spells unsupervised — not even spells you already know well." Both younger witches started to protest before McGonagall put up her hand to stop them. "I'm sorry, but it's for your own protection and for the protection of others. You could seriously injure yourselves or another student with an overpowered and miscast spell. However, I realize that you do need to practice — both for your classes and for the tournament. I will offer to supervise you, but we'll need to set a schedule. We could perhaps have a more flexible schedule if you're willing to allow another teacher to help, like Professor Flitwick."

Jasmine and Hermione were mollified to learn that they wouldn't lose practice and training time entirely, though it was a disappointment that they'd be restricted on when they could do it. "OK, we'll do that," Jasmine said. "And we'll think about asking Professor Flitwick to help us as well. Right now, we mostly train and practice after dinner, two or three evenings a week. We'll increase that as the second task approaches."

Professor McGonagall nodded at that. "I should be able to accommodate you. I can bring work of my own, too — I don't need to be hanging over your shoulders and very second, just be available in case something goes wrong. And now that I think of it, Professor Flitwick might know of a way to control how much power you use — he used to be a dueling master, and if I'm not mistaken, the best duelists can reduce or increase spell power to achieve different effects. If he can teach you any of that, you might soon not need supervision."

Both witches brightened at that idea and resolved to discuss bringing Professor Flitwick into at least some of their confidence soon. "Just how much can or should we tell him, professor?" Hermione asked.

McGonagall didn't answer immediately, but after thinking she said, "I'm not sure, to be honest. He's no fan of bigotry in the magical community, but he is also part goblin, and goblins can be very conservative — at least within their own society, I believe. They don't think much of wizards and witches in general, so they might not even care what we do in our private lives. I'll have to think about it — you're right to ask, because if he does supervise you, he might end up suspecting something... especially if the extra power is in any way connected to your relationship."

Jasmine and Hermione turned and stared at each other, both reminded of what Fleur had said the previous day and wondering if perhaps she knew what was going on with them.

Suddenly Hermione remembered something. "Now that you mention it," she said, clearly worried now, "the goblins might know more about us than we realize."

"What do you mean?" McGonagall asked in puzzlement.

"Well," Hermione began, "they didn't seem surprised when the two of us went to the bank last week, though I didn't think about it at the time. More importantly, I think the account manager saw my ring when he gave me the copy of the letter Gringotts sent to Jasmine."

"What?" Jasmine asked, a bit upset.

"Yeah," Hermione responded, "He looked closely at my hand, then at yours. I found it odd because I thought these rings would be invisible to everyone."

"And you didn't think to say anything?" Jasmine asked, now more upset.

"I'm sorry!" Hermione said, both embarrassed and defensive. "At the time you weren't paying attention, and then later I got distracted because of our concerns about who's reading your mail."

Jasmine sighed irritably and said, "Oh, all right. But that's pretty important."

"Wait a minute!" McGonagall called out. "I'm lost. What rings are you two talking about?"

Jasmine held out her left hand and scrunched up her face, causing a ring to appear. "I got Hermione a ring from the Potter heirloom vault," she explained. "It had a matching wizard's ring, but the goblins reforged it into a witch's ring. Show her, Hermione."

Hermione held out her hand, and an exact duplicate of Jasmine's appeared on her ring finger, though without any visible sign of effort on her part.

Minerva McGonagall gasped when she saw the rings side-by-side. The two younger witches interpreted that as a sign that she was impressed by the rings; she was, but her gasp was due to the fact that she recognized the significance of the rings and therefore knew what they were meant for. "And... and why did you give Miss Granger this ring, if I may ask?"

"Well, I gave it as a promise ring on Christmas. So it was sort of a Christmas present, but not really because it's more important than that," the auburn-haired witch explained as she gazed happily at her ring. "So I put it on her finger and made my promise. Then she did the same."

"Did... did anything unusual happen?" McGonagall asked, not sure she wanted to know.

"Yes," Hermione answered. "There was a bright, magical glow each time, like when you and Neville took those oaths. We assumed that was a sign that Magic was accepting our promises, just like Magic accepted your oath." The bushy-haired witch looked uncertain suddenly. "Is that not right? Is that not what happened?"

Swallowing thickly, the Transfiguration professor answered, "No, you are correct. That was Magic's acceptance."

"Oh, good," Hermione responded, happy again.

"You two should get going so you don't miss lunch," McGonagall said as she slowly made her way back to her desk. "Before I forget, Miss Granger, please bring that book with you when you come on Sunday."

After the two younger witches were gone, she sat heavily in her chair and held her head in her hands. "What am I supposed to do now?" she muttered quietly to herself. "They're amazingly in sync with each other, they're showing signs of increased power, and now I find that they are wearing old Potter family pledge rings — rings that indicate that Magic itself is accepting them as a couple!"

Shaking her head, she leaned back in her chair. "And if I'm right about what all of this means, I can't say a thing about it to them because it's impossible to say that Jasmine and Hermione have a s-s-s-s-... ugh!"

McGonagall shook her head in annoyance. _Well, it looks like I was right about what sort of bond they have_ , she thought to herself. _I'm surprised that something like this is happening with two people who are so young, but if I remember correctly, the process speeds up their developing maturity a bit and will prevent them from doing anything until they are ready. Some people might have trouble accepting it, but I'm sure their gender will cause far more complaints than their age..._

* * *

 **Tuesday, January 5, 1995, Early Evening.**

The first study group meeting with Susan Bones and Hannah Abbot of Hufflepuff was predictably awkward. First, there wasn't much to study since it was only the second day of classes, which mainly left the fourth year students to socialize. Second, it was a bit disconcerting for them to try to get to know students that they'd had three and a half years of classes with already but, for some reason, hadn't bothered to get to know before.

Gradually, though, the ice was broken, and the students started opening up to each other. The three Gryffindors learned that Susan and Hannah had been close friends since they were very young and always spent a lot of time with each other. They also learned that Susan's parents had been killed in the last war, much like Jasmine's, and her guardian was her aunt Amelia, the director of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. This more than anything helped make Susan and Jasmine feel more comfortable with each other.

The two Hufflepuffs learned that Hermione's parents were dentists and didn't really understand much about the magical world, that Neville hadn't shown any accidental magic until a late age (thus leading to some believing that he was a squib), and that Jasmine absolutely hated any special attention or titles. This unfortunately led to questions about the various rumors about what Jasmine, Hermione, and Ron had done since coming to Hogwarts.

Jasmine didn't generally like to talk about those "adventures" as if she were some sort of hero; in fact, she didn't even like to think about them if she could avoid it. At the same time, though, she couldn't find it in herself to brush the questions off completely. The point of the study group was to get to know each other and avoid misunderstandings — and what better way to do that than to replace rumors with truth? Fortunately, Hermione was willing to tell those stories, and except for when it came to the Chamber of Secrets, Jasmine only had to fill in gaps when Hermione kept downplaying her own role in events.

In the end, both groups had a much better understanding of each other and looked forward to continuing their meetings, especially once the workload got heavier and studying became more important. What Neville, Hermione, and Jasmine didn't know was that Susan and Hannah had deep connections not just with their fellow Hufflepuffs, but with most of the pureblood families in all the houses, especially other witches close to their own year.

Replacing truth with rumor for these two witches would mean that many others would also start learning the truth, causing a lot of minds to start changing...

* * *

 **Tuesday, January 5, 1995, Late Evening.**

Sitting in the Gryffindor common room shortly before curfew, Jasmine and Hermione had gathered around a table with Neville and Ginny. "Normally I'd want to meet in our room for something like this," Jasmine started, "but this will be really short, so it didn't seem worth the trip. Sorry we didn't get a chance to tell you this stuff yesterday, Ginny, but first: do you know anything about veela?"

"I don't know much," Ginny answered, "but I do remember that a lot of the witches' magazines that my mum reads tend to say bad things about veela. Those magazines have stories on topics like how to tell if your wizard is being seduced by a veela, how to fight veela allure, and that sort of thing. They seem to blame veela for failing marriages, unfaithful wizards, you name it. But I have no idea how much of that is true or not."

"Well," Hermione said, "that at least gives us an idea of what the prejudices about veela are in magical Britain, even if it doesn't tell us anything about veela themselves."

"Why the sudden interest?" Ginny asked.

"Yesterday," Jasmine answered, "Fleur Delacour approached the three of us in one of the corridors and said she wanted to talk to me and Hermione, so we agreed to do so on Saturday. She indicated that she knew something about how the two of us are 'connected.'"

Ginny's eyes widened at hearing that.

"Earlier today," Hermione continued, " **both** Jasmine and I overpowered our spells in Transfiguration. Yes, both of us, not just Jasmine. Professor McGonagall noticed and talked to us about it. She's worried about us accidentally hurting ourselves or others until we get better control."

"And until then," Jasmine continued, "we aren't allowed to practice spells unsupervised."

"The important thing," Hermione added, "is that she implied that this power issue might have something to do with our connection — that it's not a coincidence that it's happening to the two of us. Since Fleur was the first to mention such a connection, and she seems to know more, this meeting with her is important."

"Thus, our questions," Jasmine finished.

"Sorry I don't know more..." Ginny said.

"That's OK," Hermione replied. "You two keep on with the research for the second task."

"Hermione and I will look into what we can find out about veela," Jasmine concluded.

After the two fourth-year witches left, Ginny and Neville looked at each other for a minute, then Neville asked, "Were... were they starting to finish each other's sentences?"

"Not exactly," Ginny replied. "Not like my brothers do." She was silent for a long moment, then added, "But you noticed that too, huh?"


	22. Rising Power

**Recommendation:** This chapter's recommended fic is "The British Reformation" by kb0. Harry isn't happy with how he is treated after Sirius' death and is helped by Fleur Delacour. This leads to some significant changes — both for Harry and magical society in general. They will regret trying to isolate him like that.

* * *

 **Chapter 22 - Rising Power**

 **Wednesday, January 6, 1995, Morning.**

When Jasmine, Hermione, and Neville entered their double period of Charms that day, they'd already resolved to pay close attention to how powerfully the two witches cast their spells. It seemed likely that the increase in power had been affecting both of them more than they had realized, so care and observation were necessary now.

The girls hadn't reached any decision on whether to ask Professor Flitwick to help monitor them, much less on whether they should tell him their secret, but they had decided to observe him carefully as well. Both agreed that they liked the diminutive Charms professor, but their secret was too important to disclose to just anyone.

"Welcome back, everyone," Professor Flitwick said as the students settled into their seats. "For our first lesson of the spring term, we'll be working on the summoning charm. This is a very useful spell; in fact, back in November one of us here today demonstrated just how useful it can be." He made a point of looking at Jasmine, and everyone quickly realized what he was talking about.

"Miss Potter, your summoning charm during the first task was amazing. Not many fourth year students could summon something over such a long distance."

"Thank you, professor," Jasmine responded with a slight blush. "I couldn't have done it without a lot of help and coaching from Hermione, though." Her fellow Gryffindor blushed as well.

"I'm glad to hear that you two have been working so well together," Professor Flitwick said with a broad smile. "Why don't you demonstrate the summoning charm for us now? Try summoning this book from my desk," he gestured to a copy of an advanced charms text which he had just laid on a pile of other books that were already on his desk.

" _Accio_ book!" Jasmine incanted, and the charms text flew from the desk and slammed into Jasmine's outstretched hand with a loud thump.

"Oh ho!" Professor Flitwick cried out. "That is impressive, most impressive indeed. I expected that I'd have to tell you what the book was and show you the title before you'd be able to do it." Turning to the rest of the class, he continued. "You see, the summoning charm is heavily dependent upon not just your will, but your ability to concentrate on a _particular_ object. Or, to put it another way, it's dependent upon your ability to _visualize_ a very specific object, much as is the case in transfiguration. The more definitively you can visualize, name, or otherwise identify an object, the less power and concentration it will take you to summon it because your magic has specific information about what to summon."

Gesturing to Jasmine, he said, "Miss Potter here summoned something very general: a book. If you look around, you'll see lots and lots of books in this room. So why was she able to summon that one particular book instead of some other random volume, or even nothing at all? Anyone? Well, that sort of general summoning is successful when one or both of two factors is present: a very strong idea or image in the person's mind of what they want, or a lot of excess power that is pumped into the spell."

He waited while students wrote that information down before continuing. "In Miss Potter's case, it would be because she concentrated very strongly on that one book, even though she didn't know what it was. Being able to see it so well helped, of course. Focusing on one object out of many similar objects is difficult enough, but to do it without knowing any specific information or details about that object is even harder."

"So," he said, turning back to Jasmine, "five points to Gryffindor for being able to do the spell the first time and another ten points for doing such a marvelous job at it."

Professor Flitwick then proceeded to distribute pillows to each student, saying, "I want you all to practice summoning the pillow from your partner. Remember to concentrate hard on the pillow you want. If it doesn't work right away, try describing the pillow more specifically to give your magic something to latch on to. All the pillows have different colors, patterns, and textures to help you identify the one pillow you want."

While everyone else was distracted, Hermione leaned closer to her friend and said, "That was nicely done, Jasmine."

"Hurt like hell, though," she responded, shaking her hand a bit.

"Language!" Hermione said out of habit, then asked, "It hurt? Because it hit your hand too fast?"

"Exactly. Good thing we'll be using pillows for the rest of the lesson," Jasmine said, "Otherwise we'd probably have to go to Madame Pomfrey after this."

Hermione grimaced at the thought, then the two witches began summoning the two pillows back and forth. Each attempt was successful and each time the pillows travelled very fast, proving that Jasmine's earlier comment had been spot on. Both witches felt that they could conclude that their magic was indeed stronger, and with charms, too.

After a few minutes, Hermione stepped over to Jasmine and whispered, "Instead of saying the spell in a normal voice, let's try whispering it. Eventually we'll have to learn how to do silent spell casting anyway, and remember Professor McGonagall suggested it would be necessary for spells under water. So, practicing whispering now might be a good idea. And if it weakens our spells a bit, maybe that would be a good thing?"

Jasmine readily agreed, so the two began whispering the summoning spell, more and more quietly as the lesson went on. At first they had a bit of trouble getting the pillows to move, but it didn't take long for them to get the hang of it, and soon the pillows were flying back and forth between them again, albeit at a slower speed than before. Because Professor Flitwick was so preoccupied with helping the other students, he didn't notice what Jasmine and Hermione were doing. This meant that they didn't get any house points for the achievement, but it also meant that they didn't have to explain how they did it or why they were trying in the first place.

Regardless, they were happy that they now had a way to make their spells less overpowered and thereby less dangerous, though they still hadn't made up their minds about Professor Flitwick.

* * *

 **Thursday, January 7, 1995, Morning.**

Senior Branch Supervisor Earchewer slurped his hot chojo as he sat down to deal with the morning's parchment. As the Senior Branch Supervisor, he was responsible for most of what happened in the London branch of Gringotts bank, and most of the items he had to deal with that morning were routine.

A teller had to be reprimanded for his drawer being 3 sickles over at the end of his shift? _Dock him that day's pay and put a negative mark in his file_ , Earchewer wrote. Cart Driver Griphook was being recommended for promotion to Cart Manager? _His record is spotless, and he has worked here without problems for twenty years... promotion approved._ Door Guard Axehandle and his mate are about due to have their first _hellyon_ , and he wants some time off? _Two weeks paternity leave approved when their hellyon is born... and be sure to send a gift to the new mother from the bank when it happens._ Earchewer smiled briefly — the arrival of a new little hellyon was always a happy time for family and clan.

Then Earchewer came upon an envelope marked "Urgent" and locked with a special Gringotts privacy seal. Curious, he opened it up and found that it was from Account Manager Knobshaft and pertained to the Potter account. It was not, as he first assumed, about the audit which he had approved a couple of weeks previously. Instead, Knobshaft had vague concerns about the Potter girl and some muggleborn friend of hers named Granger.

For a few moments Earchewer was annoyed that he would be bothered with something like this, and in an "Urgent" letter to boot; but as he kept reading he found that he shared his underling's concerns. Between the nature of the witches' interactions, their use of a Potter family pledge ring set, and a few other small details, there was plenty there to warrant curiosity. However, there wasn't nearly enough to justify any particular conclusions, much less official actions by the bank.

And that's why he'd gotten the letter. Knobshaft had recognized that it was an issue beyond his authority and so was passing the galleon on to his superior. This meant that no matter what happened, he couldn't be faulted for not alerting someone in charge. It also meant that Earchewer was now on the line for making a decision.

He took another sip of his chojo, then grimaced and set it back down because it had cooled while he worked through Knobshaft's report. Leaning back in his chair, he tried to weigh his various options. In the end, he had to conclude that he simply didn't have enough information to follow any particular path. At the same time, though, he couldn't just ignore this. He couldn't put his claw on it, but there was definitely something odd about it all. He could feel it, and listening to those feelings was one reason why he'd risen to his current position so quickly.

Earchewer reluctantly concluded that he was in the same position as Knobshaft was. He therefore decided to borrow his underling's idea and pass the galleon up. There were, after all, standing instructions to report unusual events and situations of this sort.

Pulling out a fresh quill and some of his better parchment, he rewrote Knobshaft's report and added his own perspective to the situation. After a moment's hesitation, he decided to seal it all in a new "Urgent" envelope which he set aside to be sent to the Gatekeeper.

* * *

 **Saturday, January 9, 1995, Morning.**

Albus Dumbledore looked around at his very tired colleagues as they drank their tea or coffee and tried to wake up enough to participate in the first staff meeting of the spring term. The first and last weeks of every term were always the hardest, and that made getting up early for the first staff meeting a bit of a chore. He was glad of the fact that he had always been an early riser; by being more awake and alert than the others, it was easier to be a commanding presence at the head of the table.

"Welcome to the first staff meeting of the 1995 spring term, everyone!" he said loudly, getting the meeting started and disturbing a couple of staff members who had apparently started to doze off. He suppressed a smile as he watched them try to shake themselves awake.

Following his standard practice ever since he became headmaster, he went around the table asking everyone how things had gone during the first week and if there was anything important that the rest of the staff might need to know about. Except for a couple of minor issues, everything was running smoothly at Hogwarts.

Once his own announcements were finished, he dismissed everyone except for the heads of house and Alastor Moody. "As you all know," he told them, "the second task of the Triwizard Tournament is fast approaching, and it's time we dealt with the hostages that the champions will need. I've already spoken to Headmaster Karkaroff, and he agrees that Miss Granger will be the hostage for Mr. Krum." Turning to Pomona Sprout, Hufflepuff's head of house, he continued, "I believe you'll agree that Miss Chang should be the hostage for our Mr. Diggory?" She nodded, then he turned to Minerva McGonagall to say, "And of course, Mr. Longbottom will be the hostage for our Miss Potter?"

Instead of offering the expected agreement, Minerva said, "I'm not so sure, Albus."

"Oh?" he replied with unconcealed curiosity, "Is there someone better suited to serve as Miss Potter's hostage?"

"Actually, Albus," she said, "I have a concern about the entire hostage situation."

"Really?" he said, nonplussed. "What's the problem, then?"

"Will any of these hostages be **asked** if they wish to participate? Will they be allowed to refuse?" Minerva asked. "Will those who are underage have their parents or guardians contacted to see if they approve?"

Everyone in the room stilled at those questions. Apparently, no one had bothered to ask them before, and no one was sure how to answer them now.

Trying to assert control over the situation, Dumbledore said, "Now, Minerva, I'm sure that none of them will mind..."

Interrupting him, she said, "To be quite honest, Albus, I'm not so sure of that. But I could be wrong. So we'll be asking, yes?"

"I hardly think that's necessary, Minerva," the headmaster said in an attempt to placate her. It was a tone of voice which he had used countless times before with many different people. Only now, though, was Minerva McGonagall consciously aware of it. Only now was she consciously connecting this instance to all the previous times it had happened, recognizing that in many of them, he had overridden her concerns in situations that had later gone badly.

It was the tone of voice he'd used when he overrode her objections to Jasmine Potter being left on the front doorstep of the Dursleys. It was the manner of speaking he'd used when he ignored her concerns about hiding the Philosopher's Stone in a school full of children. It was the attitude he'd projected when he insisted that the staff didn't need to quash any of the rumors or accusations floating around the school about Miss Potter.

In the past, for some reason, she always quickly gave in and ignored her instincts. Not this time.

"Really?" she asked, skepticism fairly dripping in her voice. "And would you like to be the one to tell Augusta Longbottom that her grandson was put in an enchanted sleep then tied to the bottom of the Black Lake without either her or her grandson ever being asked for their permission?"

Everyone in the room winced, even Severus Snape. Not a single one of them wanted to get on the bad side of Madam Longbottom — certainly not without a very, very good reason.

Dumbledore took a sip of water to wet his suddenly dry mouth before saying, "I see your point, Minerva. Perhaps some provision should be made... yes, I'll come up with a means for securing permission from those responsible for the students' well being."

Looking around, he saw that everyone had relaxed and accepted his assurances. "Now, given that," he continued, "would you agree that Mr. Longbottom is the best choice for Miss Potter's hostage?"

She decided that his use of the phrase "best choice" gave her just enough wiggle room to work within the oaths that came with her position. "Yes," she replied truthfully. Putting half of an incipient bonded pair in danger would be a very poor choice indeed. _Now if only there were a way to get another hostage for Krum!_

"Very good," Dumbledore then said. "I'll let you all know about the arrangements for the hostages once we get closer to the date of the second task. I think that's all we have for today, so thank you for staying extra for this."

After that, the last of the staff left the meeting, most of them confident that the headmaster would take care of any problems that arose. Only Minerva had doubts, and she was curious about what her boss would do in order to secure permission to put Miss Granger and Mr. Longbottom in the tournament. Her doubts only increased when she remembered that Dumbledore never actually said he'd be contacting any parents or guardians; instead, he'd contact "those responsible for the students' well being," a phrase that could have so many meanings.

Unfortunately, there wasn't much she could do to force the issue; all she could do was wait and watch.

* * *

 **Saturday, January 9, 1995, Early Afternoon.**

Jasmine and Hermione ate lunch quickly, anxious to get to their meeting with Fleur. They had no idea what the French veela would say, but the tantalizing hints she had dropped earlier in the week made them very curious. It also made them suspicious, but Neville and Ginny knew where they'd be and with whom, so they felt that they would probably be safe.

Before they left, though, Jasmine stole a quick glance over at the Ravenclaw table and spotted Luna Lovegood eating her own lunch… alone. Every time she'd seen the young blonde witch eating in the Great Hall, she'd been alone — and not just alone, but usually with some distance between her and her fellow Ravenclaws. _It's certainly not proof of bullying_ , Jasmine considered, _but it's not a good sign, either. Maybe we should start inviting her over here?_

Before she could think about that plan any further, it was time for her and Hermione to leave. Immediately outside the Great Hall near the end of the lunch period they found Fleur waiting for them. After escorting her to the seventh floor, Jasmine surreptitiously checked the map to make sure they were alone, then Hermione led them into the training classroom, sealing and silencing the door. Now that she knew she was putting more power into her spells, she was even more confident than usual that they would have privacy for this meeting.

They all sat around a small table which Dobby and Winky had found and brought in for just such purposes and which, for some reason, already had refreshments on it. There were even some small French delicacies which the two Gryffindor witches had never seen before, but Fleur assumed that they were acting as especially gracious hosts and thanked them, her estimation of them rising by quite a bit.

After everyone had served themselves, Fleur got things started by asking, "What do you know of ze veela?"

Jasmine let Hermione field that question as she shifted into her "professor" mode. "Veela are considered to be near-human magical beings that have an avian form when they are angry. They are all females who possess exceptional beauty and singing voices. They have a type of allure which attracts male humans, even to the point of causing men to do insane things in order to catch the attention of the veela. It is believed that veela have their own, unique, non-wanded magic, but nothing is known of it by outsiders except for the fireballs which are only seen when veela are in their avian forms."

Fleur nodded at that answer and said, "Zat is indeed ze general consensus among outsiders, but it eez not all quite true. I will give you more information, but you must not spread it around. It eez for your ears only."

Both girls nodded their agreement, so Fleur continued, "Veela consider zemselves to be as 'uman as you. We are different, zat is true, but witches and wizards are different from muggles and zey are all 'umans, non? We are all female and we are all beautiful. We do 'ave avian forms and we can throw fire, though we don't need to be in our avian form to do zat. We just avoid it so others underestimate us. We do 'ave other magic, but I won't go into zat 'ere except to say zat a lot involves enchanting objects, magical bonds, and magical rituals. veela are especially knowledgeable about such zings."

Hermione perked up a bit at this, wondering if perhaps the rituals veela used were in any way related to the rituals described by D. Tempest Pureheart.

"Most zink veela magic is sexual, but veela are more sensual than sexual," she continued. "We rely 'eavily on physical contact, which might be just 'ugging and cuddling or might go as far as sex. It is ze intimacy and ze contact which matter most to us. It calms and relaxes us. It eez common for veela to cuddle and relax in large groups. We even live in communal groups of two or three dozen in a 'ome."

"We do 'ave an allure which can let us control males," Fleur went on, "zo it eez used mostly as a defense mechanism, not to attract sexual partners. veela are bisexual and we mate with male 'umans, but over time zat can dilute the veela attributes, so it eez limited to only often enough to prevent problems from inbreeding and ensure genetic diversity. Mostly, we mate with other female veela and we reproduce zat way."

Leaning forward, she added, "No one outside of the veela communities knows zat, by ze way, and it eez a closely guarded zecret. Wizard leaders would feel threatened by matriarchal magical communities where men are not needed, and we would be attacked. We, on ze other hand, believe zat wizards 'ave tried too hard to dominate magic and 'ave 'armed it by suppressing ze feminine side of magic."

"That's all very interesting," offered Hermione, "but why are you telling us this? Why trust us with such information, and what does it have to do with what you told us in the corridor earlier?"

Fleur smiled thinly and answered, "You won't like ze answer, but in truth, I do not know."

"You don't... but... you..." Hermione spluttered.

Fleur held up her hand to calm the younger witch and continued, "I wrote to my _maman_ and _grandmere_ about some zings I noticed about you two. Zey are more experienced zan I, and I 'oped zat zey could explain to me what I was seeing. Zey confirmed what I thought and instructed me to give you zis information. I do not know why or 'ow it is relevant."

"And what is it that you saw with us?" Jasmine asked.

"Zat is the next part zat I must tell you," replied Fleur. "Ever since I arrived 'ere, I 'ave noticed zat you two are close and zat zere is something between you. Since then, and especially since some time in December, zat connection has grown, and now I can almost see power flowing between you two. Ze connection cannot really be described in words — for veela, perceiving such a connection is a sense and describing it eez like trying to describe a taste by using smells. Ze closest I can come eez to say zat it eez like a melody in the air around you. Zis melody has been growing in complexity and strength."

Jasmine and Hermione looked at each other, having a good idea what the French veela was perceiving. They had no idea that veela could discern romantic attachments in such a manner, though, and wondered if anyone else in the school could as well.

"And... where else have you seen this sort of thing? What other people have you seen with this sort of... connection?" Jasmine asked hesitantly.

"No one," answered Fleur. "Zis is ze first I've seen. I've never even 'eard of it, zat is why I 'ad to write to my family."

Jasmine and Hermione were shocked. Surely Fleur had encountered romantically attached couples before! But if she had, that would mean that the romantic relationship isn't the source of whatever Fleur had been perceiving.

"Do you know anything about the nature of this connection, or whatever it is?" asked Hermione.

"No, I'm sorry," Fleur answered with a sincerely apologetic look, "but my maman and grandmere did not tell me. I assume zey know more, but zey did not share it."

Hermione frowned at that, but there was nothing she could do. Then she looked at Jasmine, the question between them obvious: _Should we tell her?_ Jasmine looked unhappy. Hermione didn't feel particularly happy herself, but she shrugged — the more Fleur knew, the more she could help. Jasmine made a small gesture in Fleur's direction, pointing out the fact that the veela was there alone. Her meaning was plain enough: _It's her_ _ **family**_ _who can help, but they aren't here._

"We… might have a bit of information which could help your ability to explain things to us," Hermione finally said to Fleur, "but there are a couple of problems with telling you. First, you don't seem to have much information yourself. It seems like it would be better to share this with your mother or grandmother, but of course they aren't here. If you could get more out of them, then it might be worth it for us to share."

Fleur nodded her head, "Zat is reasonable."

"Second," Jasmine continued, "and I feel really bad about this, but we've only shared this information with three others — and all three took an oath before hearing it."

"The oath wasn't on their life or magic," Hermione hastened to add, "but it was an oath. We feel bad about bringing this up because you voluntarily shared information with us without asking for an oath, but I'm really not sure we'd be comfortable with doing the same. The information is very personal."

Fleur cocked her head slightly and thought for a moment, then responded, "Zat is fine, I will respect your privacy. If we get to zat point, let me see ze oath and if I zink it is fair, I will give it."

"Thank you," said Hermione in relief. "I hope your mother and grandmother will offer more information that will help us."

"Speaking of helping," interjected Jasmine, "have you solved the egg?"

"Oui," answered Fleur, suddenly cautious, "but I will not 'elp you..."

"No," Jasmine quickly said, "we've already solved it, too." Fleur relaxed at hearing this. "We wanted to ask if you had an idea of who they would take from you."

"Who? **Qui**?" Fleur asked, now looking very concerned.

"Yes, who," Hermione responded. "We figured that objects are too easy to hide, and any decent person will treasure other people in their lives far more than any material objects. So it seems likely that what they'll steal is the person who's most important to you."

Jasmine and Hermione had seen veela transform into birds at the Quidditch World Cup last August, but that had happened quite some distance from them. Fleur was up close and personal, so seeing that she was about to transform was terrifying. "Zey would dare?!" she cried, her voice going hoarse from the internal changes. "Nom de dieu de putain de bordel de merde de saloperie de connard d'enculé de leur mères!"

Neither Jasmine nor Hermione wanted to fight Fleur — whoever won, it would look bad for everyone involved — but even with their increased power, they weren't sure how well they'd do against an enraged, transformed veela in close quarters. So instead of moving into a fighting stance, both girls simultaneously chose to try to calm the French witch. Relying on what they had just learned, they both reached across the table and each took one of her hands — now starting to become talons — in their own.

When they did so, the transformation slowed, and Fleur looked both confused and a little less angry. The two witches glanced quickly at each other, then both stood and moved around the table so they could stand on either side of Fleur. Slowly, so as not to startle the angry half-bird, they drew her into a light embrace. "It's alright," whispered Hermione. "We'll find a way to save everyone," added Jasmine. After what they had just learned about veela, they hoped that the physical contact would help, and they were right.

Gradually, the transformation reversed itself and Fleur, once fully human again, found herself embraced by the two English witches. It was quite a surprise to her because she wasn't accustomed to any sort of physical contact with non-veela — veela enjoyed physical contact such as hugs immensely, but because of prejudice they only tended to get such contact from each other. As much as she could, Fleur returned the hugs and breathed deeply in order to calm herself and push back the anger.

"Zank you — both for ze information and for 'elping me stop my transformation. Losing control like zat is very embarrassing for veela. It eez also very, very difficult to get a transformed veela to go back when she hasn't had a chance to destroy zomething. You two are very impressive."

"Thank you," they both said simultaneously, blushing a bit.

"As you may 'ave surmised," Fleur tried to explain, "family and loved ones are extremely important to veela. Zere eez also unfortunately a long 'istory of veela being kidnapped to be used as sex slaves. Zat is why I had such a strong reaction to ze idea of anyone I care about being taken 'ostage."

After all three had sat back down, Fleur asked, "What do you intend to do to protect all zose who are taken?"

"We haven't come up with any details yet," Hermione admitted. "It's been less than a week since we solved the egg. But we and our friends are all researching different aspects of completing the task — including what can be done for any hostages."

"Once we've got something," Jasmine continued, "we thought we champions could meet to compare notes. Cedric has already agreed and we think Viktor will as well."

Fleur looked intrigued, but cautious. "I don't know, we are supposed to be competitors..."

"True," Jasmine said, "but if they take hostages — people who never volunteered to participate in a dangerous tournament — then it stops being about our competition and starts being about saving those innocent people. If there are hostages, we will all have common interests and a common goal, so why not work together in order to deal with the problem?"

"This tournament is supposed to foster international cooperation," added Hermione. "Doesn't it seem strange that they are trying to foster cooperation while demanding competition?"

At that, a fierce light shone in Fleur's eyes. "You are absolutely right! It eez ze innocents we should be thinking about, not ourselves. Zank you for reminding me. Oui, I will join you and compare ze notes."

After discussing possible times to meet again, the three witches left the training room. Fleur took her own route down to the Hogwarts grounds while Jasmine and Hermione went a ways in the other direction, then doubled back so they could use the Room of Requirement. They decided that they wanted to take a page from the veela handbook and cuddle for a while before Hermione needed to get to the library for some research.

* * *

 **Saturday, January 9, 1995, Night.**

In Little Hangleton, the baby-sized Voldemort moaned in distress. The pain he had been feeling since that afternoon wasn't the worst he'd had to contend with lately, but it was still far more than he wanted — which was none. _If We are lucky_ , Tom Riddle pondered, _this means that the pain will start going away and We can continue with Our original plans. If We are not lucky, then this is simply a minor reprieve and the pain will continue to be bad. In that case, We will have to start preparing contingencies._

Baby Mort, a.k.a. Tom Riddle, didn't like the idea of having to initiate a contingency plan because that meant that his current plan was going so badly that it would likely fail if followed to the end. Since he himself was the smartest and most powerful wizard in the world, any failure in his plans must be due to sabotage or incompetence on the part of others... and right now, there was only one other around who could be blamed.

Fortunately, Wormtail had stopped drooling into the carpet and was recovered from his previous punishment session. Well, mostly recovered: he still twitched in an annoying way and jerked a bit when he walked, but Baby Mort just avoided looking him in the face.

"Wormtail!" he called out, "Come in here. We need you!"

 **Sunday, January 10, 1995, Morning.**

"Neville," Hermione said, "What did you find out about how Jasmine can stay underwater for up to an hour?"

Neville cleared his throat as he looked at his notes. "There are only a couple of options. The most difficult is some form of self-transfiguration. You can create gills and flippers for yourself, even up to the point of transforming yourself into an aquatic animal like a fish."

"You mean, like an animagus?" Hermione asked, impressed with the level of magic required for that.

"It's similar, but not the same thing," Neville answered. "I guess I should have included the animagus transformation here, but what are the chances that Jasmine would be a fish?" Even Jasmine snickered at that. "But self-transfiguration is just a really high-level transfiguration spell. It's hard to do and easy to mess up. So while it's an option, I wouldn't recommend it."

"OK," Jasmine said, "that's probably out then. What else?"

"Next is the Bubble Head charm," explained Neville. "It creates a bubble of air around your head. It's good under water and in environments with noxious fumes. It's much easier than self-transfiguration, but it's still hard and takes a lot of magic to maintain, as we learned when we used it when we tried to figure out how to solve the egg. Also, you won't be able to hear as well under water."

"Right," Jasmine said, "I remember. I might do better now, but keeping it going for an hour might be tough. And would I have enough magic left over to fight?" Hermione frowned deeply at that, clearly not favoring this option.

"The last option," Neville continued, "is gillyweed. You eat it and grow not just gills, but webbing in your hands and feet. How long it lasts depends on how much you eat. But you can eat enough for an hour and carry some extra, either for yourself or for a hostage. You'll breathe underwater and swim really well. There's no issue with hearing, and you'll have all your magic for other tasks."

"That sounds almost too good to be true," said Hermione. "What's the catch?"

Neville sighed. "It's rare and expensive. If we order some now, we might be able to get enough for the task and some training, but it will be close. Or we could steal some from Snape — he should have a bit."

Jasmine frowned, but said, "I can swing the galleons, I think. I believe that is our best option, if we can get the gillyweed."

Hermione and Ginny both nodded their heads. They didn't want to encourage Jasmine to spend lots of money, but the advantages of this option were too good to ignore.

"OK," Jasmine said, "I'll order some tomorrow. I'll just need the information from you, Neville." He nodded at her, glad to be in a position to help.

"I should go next," announced Ginny. "The Black Lake doesn't have a ton of dangerous creatures. There's the squid, but if you don't bother him then he won't bother you. He's more of a pest than an actual threat. There are the merpeople. They are sentient and have weapons. However, if they are holding the hostages, I doubt you'll have to fight them. If you do, then you'll have to contend with thrown and stabbing weapons. A strong shield against such weapons will be needed." Everyone looked a bit grim at this point.

"Finally, there are grindylows," Ginny continued. "They are vicious little animals with sharp teeth and claws: think feral dogs under water. One or two can be chased off, but a pack will be very dangerous. You'll need spells to scare them and maybe spells that will kill a couple to drive home the idea that they shouldn't mess with you."

"I'll go next, since Hermione's part will be the most complicated," Jasmine said. "To protect any hostages, the first thing we can do is make them unavailable. That's hard." Everyone nodded in understanding. "One way of doing this is to get notes from parents forbidding participation in the tournament, but we don't know if the organizers will care. I'd recommend trying anyway, just to see what happens. Another way of doing it is to hide the potential hostages. That sounds hard, but it's not as hard as you think. We have two places where we can put people safely: the Room of Requirement and the Chamber of Secrets."

Now everyone looked a bit uncomfortable, especially Ginny. "I'm sorry to bring it up, Gin," Jasmine apologized, "but we know that no one else can access it, making it even better than the Room of Requirement. Anyone placed down there should be secure and invisible, for all intents and purposes. The problem with that is that if they want hostages, they will take **someone** — hiding the most obvious hostages doesn't protect everyone. On the other hand, hiding the most valuable hostages means that whoever is trying to hurt me won't be able to use you."

"Whoever is missing will probably get detentions," Hermione observed.

"So?" Ginny asked. "The idea of going down there scares me to death, but Jasmine is right. Someone wants to kill her, and I'm sure they aren't above using us. Anyone else picked won't have the same value to Jasmine and aren't as likely to be hurt to get to her. I'm sorry if that sounds cold, but I really think it's true."

Everyone else nodded in agreement. "Finally," Jasmine said, "there are monitoring charms. Often placed on kids by their parents, they can be used to find their location and monitor their relative health. Some are common and might be removed, but I suspect we can find some uncommon or old ones that won't be detected. The problem is, we can only put these on the "obvious" hostages. Any non-obvious hostages won't get them — we can't apply them to every person and student in the castle."

"So," Hermione said, "it sounds like we can choose to place charms on hostages to make them easier to find, or hide potential hostages so they can't be used. But probably not both."

Jasmine nodded at this, then said, "I'm inclined to want to hide the most valuable and likely hostages until near the start of the task. It will put my mind at ease, which will make it easier for me to complete the task — especially if we can come up with a good plan for that."

Hermione looked thoughtful at this and pointed out, "It's an extreme step. It will put you at odds with the headmaster and the tournament organizers."

"Why don't you run it by Professor McGonagall?" Neville suggested. "If there are reasons to think that it's a horrible choice, she might be able to tell you."

"Good idea," Hermione responded. "We have a meeting with her later today. We have time to decide what to do, so that will work out fine."

Everyone agreed to that, leaving just Hermione's research. "I have a list of spells that might be useful under water, though I need to find a good shield against physical weapons. The biggest problem is speaking underwater. Neville, do you know if gillyweed allows for talking?"

Neville shook his head, "I have no idea, sorry. I'll look it up to see what I can find."

"Thanks," Hermione said. "If Jasmine can speak at all, she can use more spells. If she has to cast silently, she'll have to practice a smaller set of specific spells so she can be sure of success." With that, she handed out copies of the spell list she created. "Most of these are offensive. I assumed that there would be more dangers to face. I'll look up other spells that might help with navigation in unfamiliar terrain."

"Thanks, Hermione," Jasmine said. "We can start practicing these soon."

"Since our power seems to have grown, I'm not too worried about you being able to do the spells. We just need to be sure to familiarize you with the most useful spells. If you know them, I think you'll be able to do them."

"Once we have an idea of what spells Jasmine can do," Neville suggested, "we need to look at how she gets to the hostages, how she deals with them, etc."

"Good idea, Neville," Hermione responded. "You look into talking while using gillyweed. Ginny, see if there are any spells that the grindylows and merpeople are especially susceptible to. I'll look into navigation under water. Jasmine, you look into obscure tracking spells and the state of the Chamber of Secrets. Well, maybe not both — we'll see what Professor McGonagall says, first."

"Hey," Neville suddenly said, "What did Fleur want to talk about yesterday?"

"We can't talk about most of it," Jasmine said apologetically, "but she might be able to tell us more about what's going on between me and Hermione. Apparently veela have the ability to sense or detect such connections. We'll have to wait, though, until she hears back from family."

"Yeah," Hermione added. "That's really it — aside from a few interesting facts about her people, there really wasn't anything else. It was a short meeting."

Neville looked a little disappointed, but he had known that they probably wouldn't be able to share much with him.

"If she's able to tell us more about us and what's going on with us, I'm sure we'll be able to tell the two of you as well," Jasmine said.

Both Ginny and Neville looked a bit happier that their friends would try to keep them in the loop. Since that covered all of the topics they needed to talk about, the two went off to get some homework done before lunch.

Jasmine and Hermione, though, needed to spend some time preparing what they were going to discuss with McGonagall. This was already going to be a full meeting, and they wanted to be able to deal with their questions efficiently so as to leave time for the most important one: why was she so interested in helping them?


	23. Still Loving You

**Recommendation:** This chapter's recommended fic is "The Accidental Bond" by kb0. Harry discovers an amazing and disturbing ability that causes witches to bond to him. This story does an excellent job at showing what might happen if Harry had guardians who stood up for him — adults who put _his_ interests first, not the interests of the school or the headmaster. This story was also the inspiration for the idea of "anti-permission letters."

* * *

 **Chapter 23 - Still Loving You**

 **Sunday, January 10, 1995, Afternoon.**

When Jasmine and Hermione entered Professor McGonagall's office that afternoon, everyone felt the tension in the air. They all knew that they were due for a very serious conversation, and none of them knew quite what to expect. Still, they had been through a lot together over the past month, so they were confident that they'd get through this as well.

After Minerva had poured tea for everyone, Jasmine started the conversation by saying, "I know we have something important to discuss, but there are a couple of issues Hermione and I would like to talk about first. You know that Sirius Black is innocent, right?" At Minerva's nod, she continued, "Well, he's been on the run, but because of the tournament he's decided to come back to Britain, and we'll probably see him eventually. The question is, do we tell him about us?"

Minerva leaned back in her chair a little more and sipped her tea while she thought about that. "I guess this was bound to come up sooner or later, but it's unfortunate that it's so soon," she finally said. "It would have been more convenient if this could have waited a while."

After a bit more thought, she continued, "He comes from a very traditionalist family which would have rejected such relationships, and while he broke away from his family, that doesn't mean he broke away from all traditionalist views — especially views like this which aren't considered 'dark.' So he may still hold to the idea that witches being together is wrong, if for no other reason than he learned it while young and never had any reason to question it."

Sighing, she concluded, "If he already knew you well and if you already had a good relationship with him, I could see telling him — in such a case, **not** telling him could even hurt your relationship. As it is, he's probably still suffering the effects of Azkaban, surely hasn't gotten any treatment for it, and barely knows you. I'm sure he wishes the best for you, but that doesn't mean he'll support you in something like this — not yet, at any rate. Once you've had a chance to get to know him better and maybe gauge his feelings about old, traditionalist views, then revisit this."

Both witches nodded at her advice. This was why they came to her: she could cut through the static and get right to the heart of an issue. "Thank you, that makes a lot of sense," Jasmine replied. "I wish we could tell him, but that's only because it would be nice to have his support. I suppose I'm just wishing for close family that backs me in things like this." As she concluded that, Hermione reached over to take her hand consolingly.

"That's quite understandable, Miss Potter," Minerva said in agreement. "Everyone deserves such support in their lives, and it's only natural that you would seek it from Sirius Black, as he's the closest thing to family you have in the magical world. Unfortunately, that doesn't mean that he's ready to provide such support just yet."

"The next issue," Hermione said, "is a bit more complicated. We had a meeting with Fleur Delacour. She told us a bunch of interesting things about the veela, most of which we can't share because they're secrets. Most of it also isn't relevant to us, but what is relevant is that veela can 'see' or sense connections between people. She's been able to sense a connection between Jasmine and me ever since the Beauxbatons delegation arrived, and she's been able to tell that it's been growing. She says it's like a melody that's been gaining in power and harmony."

Minerva's eyebrows rose at that — she'd had no idea that veela were capable of such a thing. "So, she knows about your relationship?"

"No," Jasmine said. "She didn't know what the connection was, just that it existed. She wrote to her mother and grandmother, who she thinks know more than they told her. All they wrote in their reply was a confirmation that what she sensed was indeed a connection and that she should get to know us, even tell us those secrets about the veela. Fleur doesn't understand it, but she was willing to follow her instructions. We've asked her to try to get more information from them."

"She's willing to take an oath in order to hear about the secret," Hermione added, "So we might tell her. It depends on what she hears back from her family."

"I take it that you've never heard about veela having such an ability?" Jasmine asked. "Do you have any idea what it might be that she senses? She said she's never seen or even heard of anything like what she senses with us, but we're sure that she's seen romantic and even married couples before, so this 'connection,' whatever it is, can't simply be the fact that we're a couple. There has to be more to it."

Minerva groaned inwardly as she set her tea down. _Merlin, but did this conversation go pear-shaped quickly!_ she thought to herself. _I knew it would be difficult, but I had no idea that I'd be dropped right in the middle of a minefield like this. What on earth do I tell them? And just how much will the veela be able to figure out, anyway?_

Hermione frowned, recognizing her professor's reaction as a tacit admission that she knew something. Looking up, Minerva met the younger witch's eyes and nodded, saying, "Yes, I do know something. Well, no, that may not be quite right. It would be more accurate to say that I suspect something. Several pieces of evidence I have observed all point to a particular conclusion, but I cannot say that that conclusion is true for certain."

She was tempted to get up and grab a glass of Scotch, but she had learned her lesson early on about resorting to that too soon in a conversation with these two. "That's not the problem, though. The problem is that I can't tell you what that conclusion is, even if it is only a suspicion. Magic would prevent me were I to try. And what I can say, I really, **really** shouldn't. Technically I can say some things, but it would just be a horrible idea to do so. There is the potential for serious harm if you were to figure it out based on what I can say."

"That… that… that makes no sense," Hermione sputtered. "How can knowledge be harmful?"

"It's difficult to explain, Miss Granger," Minerva said regretfully. "Unfortunately, the more specific and explicit I am in trying to answer your question, the more likely it is that I would tell you too much. However, to placate you somewhat, I can tell you that it isn't the case that you shouldn't **know** ; rather, it's that you shouldn't **be told**."

"So its not the knowledge that's harmful," Jasmine offered, "but the being told? Or the way the knowledge is gotten?"

Minerva didn't answer; she simply picked her tea back up and sipped it some more. Hermione looked thoughtful at that explanation and finally said, "I'll bet you can't or won't say any more, but it sounds like this is something we're expected to figure out ourselves. Perhaps it's only in us figuring it out ourselves that it will work out? I'm still not sure that that makes any sense, but it's a little more palatable than being told that there's something important about us that we aren't allowed to know at all."

"There's something that came up today regarding the tournament," Jasmine said next. "As we discussed before, we expect that they'll be taking hostages, not objects, but we have a way to hide people where they can't be found. Where no one but I can get them. Would that cause more problems than it's worth, do you think?"

Minerva considered that for a moment. "This puts me in a difficult position," she started to say, but Hermione interrupted her.

"You don't need to answer her as a champion, but rather as a student. Would she, as a student, end up causing too much trouble by hiding other students?"

Smiling thinly, Minerva responded, "That's a very fine distinction you're making, Miss Granger, but I think it is one I can work with. To answer your question: yes, that would cause no end of difficulties. If the headmaster requires a student to, let us say, help him with some task, and he finds that the student is missing, he would then be obligated to do everything in his power to find that student, leading to a great deal of trouble. Furthermore, if he could not find that student in time to help him with his task, he would undoubtedly choose another."

Jasmine nodded in understanding. Hiding the potential hostages would probably cause too many problems. "Another idea we had," she continued, "is for the parents of potential hostages to write in with anti-permission letters, forbidding their children from taking part in the tournament in any way other than as spectators. That wouldn't cause so much trouble, would it?"

Thinking back to yesterday's staff meeting, Minerva smiled when she considered that the headmaster probably wouldn't really try too hard to get permission from any parents or guardians, so having them write proactively might have interesting consequences. "Miss Potter, I think that if any student suspects that they will be asked to participate in some task that lies outside academic requirements, and it is a task they don't want to be involved in at all, then it would be quite reasonable and responsible for their parents to send in a note denying them permission to do so."

Jasmine and Hermione looked at each other and smiled broadly, but their smiles disappeared when Minerva continued, "Unfortunately, that may not protect you, Miss Granger, if the headmaster decides that the matter is one which muggle parents cannot make an informed decision about."

"But magic isn't an essential part of the decision!" Hermione replied heatedly. "Their decision would be based on how dangerous it is!"

"True," their professor responded, "and he might say that they cannot understand how magic protects you, eliminating any danger." She raised a hand to forestall further objections and said, "I'm not saying that he'd be right, I'm simply describing how he might argue. Since there's no way to overrule him, and since he might consider this important enough to do regardless of anyone else's wishes, we have to assume that this will indeed be his position."

They'd have to think more carefully about that option, but it would probably help others, and it was at least worth trying in Hermione's case.

Everyone grew silent, and Minerva finally said after a long moment, "I guess I owe you two your explanation now." She stood and motioned the younger witches to follow her. "Let's go sit in my private quarters. We'll be more comfortable there, and this is a rather more personal conversation than we usually have."

* * *

Every Hogwarts professor was given a set of rooms that consisted of office space and private living quarters. The office space was a large room with a desk and a more casual reception area. The living quarters contained a bedroom, bathroom, guest room, and a comfortable living room. It was to the living room that Minerva took her two students, and she had them sit on either side of her on the couch.

Leaning forward, she picked up a thick photo album that was sitting on the coffee table. Inscribed on the front was a name: _Bonnie Freya Roy_. She was a little surprised at herself for being willing to reveal such closely-guarded and personal secrets with these two young witches, but for reasons she couldn't explain, it simply felt right. She wondered if it had something to do with the secret she couldn't reveal to them, but set that question aside for later.

Gently tracing the lines of the name on the album's cover with one finger, Minerva began, "We grew up together in the same magical village here in Scotland. Well, you couldn't technically call it a village — it didn't even have a name. It was just a collection of closely allied families that had lived in the same area for centuries. We were all farmers: crops and livestock, a mix of magical and mundane."

She opened the front cover of the album, and on the first page they could all see a magical photograph of two very young girls standing side-by-side with their arms around each other. One had dark hair and was obviously a very young Minerva McGonagall. The other girl had flaming red hair, bright eyes, and a mischievous smile. "Our two families had been close for centuries — for as long as the village existed, I think. As the two of us grew up, we did everything together. We explored the wild areas in the region, we swam in the rivers and streams, we worked in the fields, and we helped each other with the families' livestock."

Flipping the page revealed two photos. One showed the two girls working in a kitchen, the other had them sitting with their heads together over a book. "Of course we also helped our mothers in the kitchen and in keeping house — by working together, we helped get the other's chores done much faster, giving us more time to spend together as we wished. We were also homeschooled together, unlike with most families where children were homeschooled only within the family. Eventually we went to Hogwarts together, where we were sorted into the same house and took the same electives. While here we studied together, played pranks together, and of course served detentions together."

Jasmine coughed and said, "Pranks? You played pranks while you were in school?"

Minerva smiled and said dryly, "I wasn't always this old, Miss Potter. I was capable of having fun while in school. I still am, too — I just don't do it in such obvious and boisterous ways."

She flipped the page again, now revealing the two girls at a slightly older age and wearing Gryffindor robes. A second photo showed them sitting on a couch in the Gryffindor common room, leaning in against each other.

"Somewhere along the way," she continued slowly, "we also fell in love." Both Jasmine and Hermione gasped audibly at hearing this. They hadn't known what they would be told today, but they never would have expected this.

"Yes, you heard right," Minerva added. "I fell in love with my best friend, who was also a witch, and she fell in love with me. We didn't give any thought to the fact that it was taboo. That it was so taboo that people never talked about it likely helped. I think we probably didn't know any better, though we somehow knew enough to keep it secret. We just enjoyed each other's company so much that it seemed natural for our relationship to progress from being friends to best friends, and then eventually to lovers."

She once again turned the page, this time revealing a photo of Minerva sitting on the same Gryffindor couch as before, with Bonnie lying down, her head in Minerva's lap. Both were trying to read. "It was late in second year that we first started developing feelings for each other, but we didn't say anything for a while — not until the summer after our fourth year, in fact. It was towards the end of that summer that we pledged ourselves to each other. We were young, naive romantics, so we concocted a ceremony out of bits and pieces we had found in various books. We imagined ourselves to be so mature for doing that, let me tell you. We found a glade with a fairy ring and conducted our little ceremony, and we were shocked when a blue glowing light surrounded us. We assumed it was magic accepting our vows, so we felt pretty good about it.

"We kept our secret all during fifth year and we were blissfully happy, sneaking around the castle and trying to keep our relationship secret. The fact that we were already always together, practically attached at the hip, probably helped.

"It was during the summer hols after our fifth year that everything fell apart. We were in one of the barns... **enjoying** each other..." She looked at the girls to either side of her and saw their fierce blushes.

"Oh, really now," she said reprovingly. "The two of you will have to get over embarrassment at talk about sex. I know that the subject isn't brought up much here at Hogwarts, but that's mostly the headmaster's doing. He's a bit of a prude, and unfortunately, people like him have encouraged similar prudishness throughout magical society. It's not healthy. You will have problems with each other if you don't get to the point where you can discuss these things."

As she watched, she noticed Hermione gather herself together, but Jasmine continued to stare down at her lap, clearly bothered by something. "Anyway," she continued, not wanting to get sidetracked, "we were enjoying each other, which is to say that we were sexually active, though only to a limited degree. We had talked about waiting until after graduating before going very far." She watched their reactions for a moment, then went on. "Yes, I know, I seem too old for that, too; but believe it or not, sex is even older than I am." That at least got a laugh from the girls. "We had explored each other quite a few times — in the barn, in remote pastures, that sort of thing. Unfortunately, we picked the wrong day to get naked in that barn because my father came in and caught us — and at a very bad moment, might I add."

She sighed at a memory which clearly still hurt. "It was a very, very bad scene. I don't care whether you're lover is the same sex or a different sex: being caught in the middle of the act by your father and listening to him berate you as you and your lover get dressed while trying to maintain a little bit of dignity... well, I can't think of many worse things to have to endure. He then fetched Bonnie's father so they could both berate us together."

Minerva paused for a moment as she gathered her thoughts. "Our fathers obviously wanted to put an end to what we were doing. They were outraged and ashamed of us. They threatened and ranted. Neither of us were willing to just give in, but they said that they'd send one or both of us away if we didn't stop. To my everlasting shame, I must confess that their constant criticism and yelling started wearing me down. But not my Bonnie, no — it only seemed to fuel her own determination. She remained defiant, no matter what they said."

She flipped through a few pages until she came across a photo of a slightly older Bonnie. Her hands on her hips, she stood there with a determined look on her face, as if daring the viewer to challenge her. "As she started talking back to our fathers, rejecting their assertions, I realized that she was saying things I'd never heard before. Given how we'd always done everything together, I was more than a little shocked. Where were these words and ideas coming from, I wondered? Before long I figured that she had probably been reading a book or books that she hadn't showed me, and that made me a little angry. Did she not trust me? What had she been keeping from me, and why?"

With a finger, Minerva traced the outlines of the photo of Bonnie, causing the figure there to smirk slightly. "Whatever she had been reading, it radicalized her and made her willing to defy our fathers and challenge not only their authority, but the traditions of our tight-knit community. It helped her grow up and mature. Unfortunately, I hadn't been exposed to whatever caused those changes in her, so I wasn't prepared to do any of those things. I didn't want to break up with her, obviously, but I also wasn't ready to toss aside my family and community."

Sighing again, she continued, "I guess it would be fair to say that she had not only matured, but she had a more mature view of our relationship. That she was more serious about it. I, in contrast, was still more immature and naive. I was in love, but I was also having fun. I wasn't thinking long-term — either about our relationship itself or about what such a relationship might mean. Or even about my life generally, to be perfectly honest. Bonnie clearly had been, but she hadn't shared her thoughts with me." Her voice suddenly dropping to a whisper, she then said, "I wish now that she had chosen to confide in me."

Wiping a tear from one eye, Minerva went on, "She didn't seem to notice that I hadn't joined her in what she was saying. Instead, she simply stormed out. I wanted to follow her, but I was ordered by my father to go to my room, and I meekly obeyed. That night, very late, Bonnie came to me in my bedroom. Somehow she had managed to climb up outside the house and crawl in through the window. I've never woken in such a fright! She was there to ask me to run away with her. She had already collected from her house all of the things which mattered most to her and was willing to wait while I did the same."

"What about Hogwarts?" asked Hermione.

Minerva smiled, not surprised that Hermione would be the first to worry about that. "We had already completed fifth year, remember, and had taken our OWLS. We were now qualified witches and could legally leave school. We each had a little money saved up and could go anywhere we wanted — or at least, anywhere our funds could take us."

The tears started to flow a little more freely now, surprising Minerva, who needed to pull out a handkerchief to wipe them away. "I refused. I told her that I couldn't simply abandon my family, my community, and the beliefs I grew up with. I foolishly believed it was possible to keep both them and her. I'll never forget the look of utter devastation on her face when I told her no. She had never doubted that I'd follow her — like I said, we had grown up doing everything together. Where one of us could be found, the other was never far away. I doubt that we had ever been separated by more than a mile or so since birth."

She needed to take a ragged breath before going on. "I broke her heart when I told her no, I could see that plain as day on her face. I tried to make up for it by asking her to wait for me — to give me time. Maybe give us time, maybe finish Hogwarts. She wouldn't do it, though. Unlike me, she knew that our parents wouldn't give us an opportunity to reconnect. She knew that society wouldn't give us a chance. She knew that if we were going to be together, we needed to break from the institutions and traditions that were determined to keep us apart. So she gave me an ultimatum: I had to pick either a new life with her or my old life without her."

Looking back and forth between her students, she said, "I think you can guess which I picked. A part of me has regretted it ever since. It's why I've been so open to helping the two of you, right from that first evening when you told me your secret. I don't want to see you suffer the same fate I did or to make the same mistakes I did."

Sighing, Minerva continued, "I never saw Bonnie again after that night, and I have no idea where she went. For many days after that night I was physically ill, even to the point of being unable to leave bed, and ever since then I've never felt entirely right. Two years later though, when I graduated from Hogwarts, I received a book via owl post. It was the very book I gave you, Miss Granger. Did you bring it with you like I asked?"

Hermione nodded, unable to speak past the lump in her throat. Reaching into her bag, she pulled out the Pureheart book and handed it to Minerva. She opened the front cover and said, "There's an inscription here which I hid, but now that I've told you my story, I think I'll reveal it." With a wave of her wand and a short incantation, a message written in bold, flowing script appeared:

"Because true love will never die, nor will it e'er fade away."

"That's beautiful," whispered Jasmine. Too caught up in her own emotions and memories, Minerva was only able to nod.

"You said you never heard from her again," said Hermione, "but do you know what happened to her?"

With a visible effort, Minerva responded, "A few years later I heard from one of her cousins that she had... died. They wouldn't tell me how or where, so I assumed that something awful had happened to her, or that she had met with violence. I take heart from the inscription, though, and hope she never believed that I ever truly rejected her. But I'll never know for sure..."

With those words, Minerva did finally break down, and her two Gryffindors leaned in to put their arms around her, trying to offer the older witch what comfort and support they could. This was a problem far beyond their young years, though, and they knew it.

Nothing more was said that afternoon. Nothing more **could** be said, really.

* * *

 **Sunday, January 10, 1995, Night.**

As Hermione lay in her bed, she found that sleep wouldn't come. Instead of relaxing, her mind kept turning back to the story that Professor McGonagall had told them earlier that day. Some of the reasons for this were obvious, but one in particular was bothering her: she had come to the realization that she might be repeating the mistakes made by her professor's friend, Bonnie.

Hermione had been devouring the book which Bonnie had sent to Professor McGonagall, who had then gifted it to them. The problem was, she had become so caught up in it that she was neglecting to share it with Jasmine. Instead of the two of them learning from it and growing together, Hermione had isolated part of herself from Jasmine and had been taking that journey on her own.

Now that she realized this, she didn't need her professor's tragic story to see that it was wrong. She needed to make some changes, though she wasn't sure how. Jasmine's schedule was already pretty full, what with classwork and preparations for the second task. _I'll just have to start fitting it in in bits and pieces_ , Hermione concluded, rolling over and trying to make plans for how to fix this.

While Hermione was concentrating on plans and schedules, Jasmine was also thinking about the conversation with Professor McGonagall. She, however, was concentrating on feelings and emotions. Jasmine thought it was pretty clear, even to someone with her lack of experience, that McGonagall at one time loved that other girl and probably still did. This got her thinking about whether she loved Hermione.

 _Is this love?_ she wondered as she laid awake. _I mean, I'm sure that I love her as a friend, and have for a while. But is it LOVE love? In love? True love?_

This would have been a difficult enough issue for anyone her age, but Jasmine had it especially hard. She hadn't grown up with any decent role models for how people should express love or for what love should look like — she didn't even have the examples of television or movie characters to go by, since her relatives had prevented her from ever being able to see very much on television. So while she thought she could recognize it when she saw it, she wasn't truly certain.

And as she had no one she felt comfortable asking about this, she spent a long time thinking about it alone.

* * *

 **Monday, January 11, 1995, Late Morning.**

As Jasmine, Hermione, and Neville walked to Care of Magical Creatures, the two girls stopped suddenly as they recognized a magnificent sight down near Hagrid's hut: a unicorn! Hagrid hadn't told anyone what sorts of creatures they'd be working with this term, but clearly unicorns would be featuring prominently. If nothing else, they were at least a significant improvement over those blasted Blast-ended Skrewts!

Every girl oohed and ahhed at the unicorn, which was standing unrestrained near Hagrid's hut. Every boy seemed to know instinctively that they needed to keep their distance. This was confirmed by Hagrid when he finally appeared. "Oh, good, I'm glad to see you fellas are stayin' back. All the male students need to stay at least this far away," he announced, pointing to an area that had been prepared in advance. "The girls can get closer, but only if yer, uh, well, if, uh..."

"Pure?" spoke up Daphne Greengrass, one of the Slytherin fourth years whom Jasmine and Hermione knew slightly from their Runes and Arithmancy classes.

Hagrid reddened and replied, "Uh, yeah, Miss Greengrass, tha's right. Any of you girls who aren't pure should stand back with the fellas."

"I was excited to have the chance to study unicorns," Hermione whispered to Jasmine, "but suddenly I'm not so sure. Is this really something that should be made so public and obvious to everyone? This could be really embarrassing to some girls."

Jasmine understood what Hermione was talking about and could hardly disagree. Looking around, though, she didn't see any of the witches walking away. "You're right," she said to Hermione, "but it doesn't look like it matters much. At least, not with this group."

Daphne, who had been standing much closer than they had realized, piped up suddenly, saying, "Thanks for having the decency to recognize the problem, Granger. I'm glad that none of us are being shamed by having to stand with the boys, but the possibility alone is outrageous. Still, I suppose it's better than the skrewts."

Jasmine and Hermione were Hagrid's friends and never hesitated to defend him, at least until now. They knew that his fondness for dangerous animals didn't mesh well with the responsibilities of a teacher, but it seemed as though even when he picked the gentlest and lightest of creatures, he still managed to create trouble.

"I'm not sure that this is a problem that's easily avoided," suggested Hermione in an attempt to salvage Hagrid's reputation. When Daphne raised a questioning eyebrow, she continued, "Well, unless unicorns are studied by the youngest age groups, there's always a risk that someone will have to step away. And unicorns are probably too advanced for those age groups. Separating people in advance might help, but the rest will know what happened."

Daphne looked more interested now, seeing that Hermione was making good points. "In the end," Hermione concluded, "the problem is people's attitudes towards those who aren't sufficiently 'pure.' That shouldn't be something to be ashamed of. If we tackle that, and shame those who make an issue of it, then this whole problem here is eliminated."

After thinking for a few moments — and recognizing the subtext that involved a purity other than virginity — Daphne responded, "That's a sound argument, Granger, but the chances of changing people's attitudes aren't very good."

"Maybe not," Jasmine conceded, "but people's attitudes do change. It's a fact of life. If we don't work to change them in the way we want, though, we have only ourselves to blame when problems aren't fixed."

Daphne gave them a slight smile and said, "I think there's a lot of naivete in that viewpoint, but that doesn't mean you're wrong. I'll keep it in mind. Good day, Granger, Potter." With that, she walked back to the other Slytherin girls, all of whom looked like they had wanted to listen in, but dared not.

"Well," Jasmine said, "that was an interesting conversation."

"I've worked with her more than you have," Hermione responded. "She can be OK. She's a Slytherin, which means she tends to have a very cynical outlook, at least in my opinion, but she's not a bigot. She always makes a good argument for her ideas and isn't easily intimidated."

Jasmine eyed her girlfriend slyly, then whispered, "Crushing on her, are you?"

"What?" Hermione asked, outraged. "No!"

"Oh, it's all right," Jasmine answered in an understanding tone of voice. "She's pretty. I get it. I can hardly blame you."

Hermione just sputtered until she saw the self-satisfied smirk on Jasmine's face, then her eyes narrowed and she said, "Just you wait, Potter. I'll get you back for that."

As the lesson on unicorns progressed, Jasmine and Hermione got to spend quite a lot of time with the unicorn that had volunteered to be there for the day. Both Gryffindors were able to pet it, brush its hair, and feed it some carrots. Neither of them noticed the tall, blonde veela by the Beauxbatons carriage who was watching their interactions very closely.

* * *

 **Monday, January 11, 1995, Night.**

That night, Jasmine was visited in her bed by Hermione, who arrived stealthily and carried a large book.

"What's wrong?" Jasmine asked, sitting up.

Hermione laid the book down between them, and Jasmine recognized it as _The Power of Love: Love is Never Dangerous_. "What's wrong," Hermione explained, "is that after listening to Professor McGonagall's story, I realized that I might be doing the same thing that her friend Bonnie did. I've been reading this alone instead of reading it with you."

Jasmine just shrugged and said, "I haven't been worried. When preparing for the first task, you usually devoured a dozen books, then provided me with the most relevant spells or information. You read faster than I do and remember more, so it's worked out well."

Hermione nodded before responding, "Yes, and in some situations that does work. But I don't think this is one of them. This isn't a case of me picking a few relevant spells out of hundreds of pages of material that won't help you to accomplish some specific task. This book… this is an entire way of thinking about and looking at magic, at the magical community, at love and relationships, at sex and sexuality, and at being a witch. It's not something that can be summarized...or if it can, the summary would lose the full impact of the original material."

Jasmine looked down, obviously a bit intimidated. "So... you're saying that I have to read the whole thing?"

"Well, not this minute, of course..."

"Thanks awfully," Jasmine interrupted sarcastically.

"...But I think you should start now before I get even further ahead of you. I know that you already have tons to do, so I was thinking about reading a bit in bed, two or three nights a week? I'll sit with you to answer questions, then I can take it back and lock it in my trunk, where I already have good protections for it."

Jasmine sighed deeply and said, "OK, I guess we can do it that way, but can we start tomorrow night instead of now? I'm really knackered."

Hermione looked disappointed but gave in. She had, after all, sprung the idea on Jasmine at the last minute, and her girlfriend had been expecting to go to sleep now. "Alright, we'll start tomorrow night. Just leave yourself a little time." Lunging forward, she gave Jasmine a quick kiss on the lips before grabbing the book back and disappearing out through the bed curtains.

Jasmine shook her head and lay down again, and in a few short minutes she was asleep.


	24. Great Balls of Fire!

**A/N:** In retrospect, I discovered that something similar to what I write below about wands was also used by Silently Watches in their fic "Faery Heroes." In fact, when I reread that fic recently, I noticed more than one similarity between it and this one — no exact copying, but the influence seems clear if you look closely. All I can say is that I really like that story, but wasn't consciously trying to imitate any of it. I suspect that some of SW's perspectives and interpretations got embedded in my mind and now heavily influence how I read HP. I'd list FH as the recommended fic for this chapter, but frankly, the actual recommendation just **fits** too well. You'll see why.

 **Recommendation:** This chapter's recommended fic is "Guy Fawkes Day" by MisterQ. What if Harry goes a little nuts and decides that the corruption and bigotry in magical society is so great that it all has to be brought down? Violently? And how would Hermione deal with it? Disturbing, but enjoyable.

* * *

 **Chapter 24 - Great Balls of Fire!**

 **Tuesday, January 12, 1995, Morning.**

An unfamiliar owl landed in front of Jasmine Potter during breakfast. Hermione, Neville, and Ginny all looked on with trepidation as Jasmine slowly detached the small piece of parchment it had tied to its leg. Hermione offered it some bacon while Jasmine unrolled the message. She looked at it in confusion for a long moment, then quickly rolled it back up and tucked it inside her robes.

"What is it?" Neville asked.

"Sorry, Neville," Jasmine said, "but it's one of those things I can't tell you. Maybe I'll be able to say something soon, but not right now."

Hermione's eyebrows shot up, recognizing that there were very few things that Jasmine wouldn't be able to share at all with Neville and Ginny. At Hermione's questioning look, Jasmine said, "We'll have to talk about it later. Maybe during lunch, if we can afford to cut it short?"

Hermione thought about that, then nodded her head. They'd have to be quick because they had a Potions lesson after lunch on Tuesdays and they couldn't afford to be even a second late for it.

As breakfast progressed, Ginny kept looking over at her twin older brothers and frowning, until finally Neville asked, "What's the matter, Ginny? You keep looking at Fred and George."

"I don't know," she responded. "I've learned that it pays to keep an eye on them, and I've noticed this morning that they're acting strangely. They keep shifting back and forth in their seats or standing up and pulling on their trousers." It was then that the two of them noticed Hermione and Jasmine had their hands over their mouths and appeared to be trying to hold in laughter.

"OK, you two, you've done something," Neville said. "Now spill — what was it?"

Hermione recovered first and started to explain, "You remember when Fred and George levitated that snow bank to win the snowball fight?" Ginny and Neville both nodded.

"Well," Jasmine continued, "even though we didn't make a 'no magic' rule, we still felt that was cheating and we've been working on a way to get them back. Hermione got the perfect spell on Sunday, and we used it today."

"Where'd you get it?" Ginny asked.

"We kind of accidentally created it ourselves, I guess," Jasmine answered.

"Creating spells is hard," Ginny said, "and dangerous, too."

"I'm not sure that we really created something new," Hermione hastened to say. "It's more that our... unusualness gave a new twist to an old spell."

"Hermione had the idea of shrinking something — and in a way that they couldn't reverse," Jasmine continued in a whisper. "So we practiced overpowered shrinking charms. Initially it was a disaster. Things shrunk so much and so quickly that they were ruined."

"So then I suggested applying the spell slowly," Hermione said, "hoping to shrink without damaging. We found that if we did it right, we could cause the target to keep shrinking gradually long after we stopped casting."

Shaking her head in confusion, Ginny said, "I still don't get the joke."

Both fourth-year witches were having trouble holding in their giggles again, but Hermione managed to finish in a rush, "When they were leaving the common room this morning, Jasmine cast a slow-acting shrinking charm on their underwear!"

Neville's and Ginny's eyes grew wide at that.

Jasmine nodded and added, "Their underwear should shrink gradually all day!" She then snorted and buried her face in Hermione's shoulder to hide her laughter. It was all Ginny and Neville could do to not do the same. All four of them kept casting sidelong glances at the twins, amused at the boys' growing discomfort.

* * *

 **Tuesday, January 12, 1995, Late Morning.**

This week's Transfiguration lesson was on the switching spell, a topic they had started to cover early in first term, but now they would be expected to move on to more complex switches. Jasmine and Hermione were confident that they'd have no problems; even without the power boost, Hermione had become familiar with switching spells back in first year and seriously considered having Jasmine try using it to fight the dragon in the First Task.

Neville, though, expected to have problems. He never did master the switching spell the first time around, even going so far as to accidentally switch his own ears onto a cactus. He'd improved a bit under the two witches' tutelage, but his earlier lack of confidence was making an appearance again, and that didn't bode well for his spell work.

After receiving instructions from Professor McGonagall, they set down for their task: switching red and blue liquids between two differently shaped jars. Jasmine and Hermione incanted as quietly as possible so as not to risk overpowering their spells. At worst, they thought they might simply switch the jars along with the liquids, but they didn't want to see what could happen if the spell went beyond that.

Neville, as expected, wasn't having any success. He wasn't even able to get a little bit of the liquids to switch, a feat that would have been made clear by small changes in the colors in the jars. Knowing that it had helped during their tutoring sessions before, Hermione transfigured an old quill into a wand-sized stick and had Neville practice the wand movements using that while she worked on organizing her notes about the spell.

Once Jasmine was satisfied with Neville's progress, she told him to try doing it with his real wand. He closed his eyes, and his face tensed up as he concentrated as hard as he could. He then opened his eyes and quickly cast the spell. To his surprise, it worked perfectly the first time.

"Five points to Gryffindor for finally getting that spell right, Mr. Longbottom," came their professor's voice from behind them.

"I… I've never gotten this right so fast. Not even partially right, never mind perfect," Neville objected.

"Well, Neville, maybe you're just getting the hang of it," Jasmine said encouragingly.

"Oh, Neville, wait, that's my wand," Hermione said from the other side, then she returned his wand while taking back her own. "You must have picked it up by mistake while I was writing."

Neville looked scandalized and stammered out an apology. "I'm… I'm so sorry. Honest, it was just an accident. It won't happen again, I promise."

Hermione looked back at him quizzically. "It's OK, really, I don't mind. You didn't damage it or anything, so what's the big deal?"

"Wizards and witches aren't supposed to use each other's wands like that," explained Neville.

"Why?" Jasmine asked. "Hermione and I use each other's wands all the time."

"Yeah," Hermione added. "Sometimes we don't even realize we've accidentally switched wands until we're done with homework, practice, or whatever. I think Jasmine must have done half of her preparation work for the first task while using my wand."

Neville's eyes got big and round at hearing that, but before he could say anything they heard Professor McGonagall's voice come from behind them again, and much more quietly this time. "You two see me after class." With that, she walked away to inspect the progress of the other students.

"Are we in trouble or something?" Hermione asked, a bit of fear creeping into her voice.

Neville, who still looked a bit shocked, answered, "No, I wouldn't think so, but this is a really weird situation. Wands are very, very personal. It's a huge taboo to pick up another wizard's or witch's wand and use it without permission — and permission is almost never given. Using a person's wand is like… like..." Neville struggled to come up with an analogy, finally saying, "I guess it's like touching a person in a very intimate way. You just don't go around doing it."

Both witches looked a bit unsettled by that, then Neville went on, "Also, a wand gets attuned to a person's magic, making it unsuitable for anyone else; if a non-owner forces it too much, they can mess up a wand, making it harder for the owner to use it. So if I kept trying to force spells through your wand, Hermione, I might have messed it up for you."

"Oh!" Hermione gasped, now comprehending what the big fuss was about. "So why hasn't that happened with Jasmine and me?"

"I don't know," Neville replied, clearly confused.

"Let's not worry about that now," Jasmine said. "Professor McGonagall will explain it to us later."

"Right," Hermione said, remembering that there was school work to be done. "You try yours again, Neville, now that you have the right wand. I'll do the same, just to make sure it still works fine."

As expected, Hermione performed the switching spell flawlessly. The surprise was Neville, who did no better than the first time he'd tried it at the beginning of the lesson.

"Are you doing anything differently?" Jasmine asked him.

"No," Neville answered morosely. "I can't understand why Hermione's wand would work better than my dad's."

"Wait, your dad's?" Jasmine asked quickly. "You mean, you didn't get that wand for yourself at Ollivander's before starting Hogwarts?"

"No," Neville said. "My gran told me that if this wand was good enough for my father, then it should be good enough for me."

"Neville, you just got done telling us that wands shouldn't be used by other people!" Hermione said with some asperity.

"Oh, yeah," Neville said a bit sheepishly. "There are exceptions. Occasionally, married couples or auror partners who are really, really close can switch wands. It's also common to pass wands down through families. They are called 'legacy' wands or 'heritage' wands. Since their original owners no longer need them, they can be safely used by someone new."

"OK, that makes sense," conceded Hermione.

"But still," Jasmine objected, "Ollivander told me that the wand chooses the witch. Or wizard, in your case. If that wand hasn't 'chosen' you, then I don't see how it will work right for you. I tried dozens of wands that all failed to work right for me before I finally found this one."

"Maybe that wand just isn't ready to be passed on," suggested Hermione. "Or maybe you're more like your mother than your father? Or maybe enough of a mix of both that neither of their wands would be quite suited to you?"

"You should try to get a new wand, Neville." Jasmine said helpfully. "At the very least, you'll see if doing better is possible, which seems likely since even Hermione's wand worked better for you than your father's. You can't hurt anything by trying. And if you do find something more suited to you, you'll surely do better with wanded magic."

Neville sat there and considered for a minute before saying, "I don't know. It would feel like betraying my father or something. I'll have to think about it."

The two witches wanted to argue with him because they knew they were right, but they held their tongues. This was very personal, and something Neville would have to come to terms with on his own.

* * *

After everyone else had left the Transfiguration classroom, Minerva McGonagall sealed and silenced the door then turned to her two favorite but most troublesome witches. "Alright," she said, "tell me again about switching wands."

The girls looked nervously at each other, still not sure that they weren't about to get into trouble over something they didn't understand. Then Hermione began, "Well, I think we've always been able to use each other's wands. I know we did at least a couple of times as early as first year, though it wasn't regular or deliberate."

"Yeah," added Jasmine, "they were just a couple of cases of picking up the wrong wand from the table when doing homework."

"Exactly," said Hermione. "That continued in second and third years, though I suppose it probably happened a bit more. This year, though, it's happened a lot. As I mentioned, it's not uncommon for one of us to pick up the other's wand and get through an entire study or practice session without realizing it. That includes a lot of practices for the first task when Jasmine was working on stronger spells than we usually deal with in our classes."

"You were, too," Jasmine pointed out. "You always practiced the same spells as I did in order to help me when I had trouble." Hermione nodded in agreement at that.

Minerva leaned back against her desk, took off her glasses, and pinched the bridge of her nose in frustration. Looking up at them, she asked, "Let me get this straight: you two not only switch wands back and forth as if they were interchangeable, but you've regularly pumped large amounts of magic for relatively strong spells through each other's wands?"

Both witches nodded in unison, identical looks of innocence and concern on their faces.

"Are we in trouble?" Hermione asked nervously. "Did we do something wrong?"

"Aside from violating common expectations and assumptions about magic… again… no, I dare say not."

"Is what we've done really that unusual?" Jasmine asked.

"Yes," Minerva said, giving both of them a pointed look, "except perhaps for the two of you, I suspect."

"And is this one of those things you can't actually explain to us?" Hermione asked in sudden realization.

"Indeed." Sighing, she continued, "In fact, I don't want you to tell anyone about this. Make sure Mr. Longbottom knows to keep it quiet as well, though I expect he already knows that anyway."

"Oh, speaking of Neville," Hermione said, "he did much better using my wand than his own. According to him, his wand was originally his father's. He never went to Ollivander's to get fitted for his own wand. His success with my wand makes me think that he's capable of doing the work he has trouble with, but maybe it's his wand that's fighting him."

"I had trouble with lots of wands I tried before this one finally worked for me," Jasmine added, lifting her holly and phoenix feather wand.

Minerva's lips thinned in irritation. "Let me guess: Augusta thinks that Frank's wand should work just fine for young Mr. Longbottom?" When she saw their blank expressions, she amended, "Augusta is his grandmother, and Frank is his father."

"Oh, well, then, yes," Jasmine answered. "That's almost exactly what he said, in fact."

"Why am I not surprised?" Minerva muttered. "Put that out of your minds for now, I'll take care of Mr. Longbottom and his wand troubles."

"OK, if you're sure," Jasmine replied. "He said he'd think about getting a new one."

"Yes, well, I'll help him think a bit faster," Minerva said with a determined glint in her eye. "And I'll be sure to let Augusta know what I think about her sending her grandson to Hogwarts with an unmatched wand. And for more than three years, too!"

The two younger witches nodded, not wanting to get in the middle of either of those conversations.

"Now off with you both," Minerva concluded the meeting, "You don't want to be late for Potions."

As they scampered off, Minerva began mentally composing a very sternly worded letter for her old friend Augusta. _I wonder if I should send it as a howler_...

* * *

 **Tuesday, January 12, 1995, Afternoon.**

All the other goblins moved aside in the rough-hewn rock corridors of the hidden goblin capitol city as the Gatekeeper strode purposefully towards the main chambers of the _Bet Bel,_ or goblin High Council. The Gatekeeper was the goblin responsible for managing the schedules and appointments for everyone on the Bet Bel, including the goblin leader, Hellraiser II. They were, almost literally, the gatekeeper for the entire goblin leadership.

It was for this reason that being Gatekeeper wasn't just a job or even a calling, it was an _identity_. Once chosen for that position, Gatekeeper became that goblin's name rather than merely their title. Forever after, they would always be known simply as the Gatekeeper and nothing else, not even by family members.

Being Gatekeeper was not an easy task, not by any stretch of the imagination, because they had the responsibility for determining what issues would be brought before individual members of the Bet Bel or the Bet Bel as a whole. Over the centuries, this task slowly transformed into also including more and more decision-making authority.

At first, denying a request for input from the Bet Bel effectively meant ratifying whatever the petitioner was already doing. When it became clear that there were cases where a certain course of action was obvious, yet the matter too trivial to bring before the Bet Bel, Gatekeepers were authorized to explicitly approve or reject whatever course of action was being proposed. Choosing wrong meant wasting valuable time or allowing an important matter to go without proper handling. It was for this reason that goblins were chosen for this position based on their ability to thrive under pressure.

Today was much like any other day as the Gatekeeper sorted through dozens upon dozens of requests for the Bet Bel's time. Every goblin and their sibling seemed to think that their personal concerns were of vital importance to the entire goblin nation, and it was the responsibility of the Gatekeeper to decide if they were right or not.

The Rome bank branch wanted to expand services to handle all of the magical refugees who were fleeing the war in the Balkans. _Request granted_ , wrote the Gatekeeper. _Don't need to bother the Bet Bel with this, though I'll have to let them know that the refugee situation hasn't abated and that we may need to close or reinforce the Balkan branches_. The Jewelers' Guild sent in a report that a new deposit of rubies had been located, but that they'd have to move fast to erect wards before the muggle government of Myanmar also got that information. _Request granted, but the Bet Bel will have to be notified in case they want to open negotiations with the muggles._ The Mexico City branch sent in a warning about the Mexican muggle economy and requested the authority to expand lending to magicals. _That's something the Bet Bel will have to take up in their next session._

It was an envelope from the London branch which ultimately overturned the Gatekeeper's routine day. It wasn't the use of the label "Urgent" that created a stir — almost everyone did that. It wasn't even the use of special, high-level security and privacy seals that caught the Gatekeeper's attention; though more rare, they were still used quite often. No, it was the contents of the envelope that forced the Gatekeeper to clear the day's schedule in order to launch an investigation.

At the end of the day, though, nothing could be decided on. The report from Senior Branch Supervisor Earchewer was interesting, but there simply weren't enough hard facts to warrant acting on. There certainly wasn't enough to justify notifying the Bet Bel or scheduling any meetings on the issue. At the same time, though, it would probably be a serious mistake to do **nothing**. It was clear that there was probably quite a bit more going on, which meant that at the very least the goblin nation needed to stay informed.

Unfortunately, the Gatekeeper was too high in the ranks to "pass the galleon up" as Earchewer had done. However, the Gatekeeper **was** high enough to "pass the galleon down" and give orders to just about anyone else in order to make things happen. Naturally, those orders would go directly to Earchewer. If he valued his position and the gold in his personal vault, he would use whatever local resources he deemed necessary to monitor the situation. He was further instructed to report back if the situation with the two witches changed at all.

It had taken an entire day to deal with that, and in the end nothing had really been accomplished — just the issuing of orders to report back when more was known. This put the Gatekeeper in a foul mood, and everyone could see it in the goblin's face, causing them to move even further out of the way as the Gatekeeper walked home through the corridors of the subterranean goblin capital city.

 _Maybe tomorrow will be more productive_ , the Gatekeeper thought with annoyance.

* * *

 **Tuesday, January 12, 1995, Evening.**

Because of the unexpected meeting with their Transfiguration professor earlier in the day, it wasn't until after dinner that Jasmine and Hermione had time to find a private place to read the note which Jasmine had received that morning. Instead of going to their training classroom, they decided to use the Room of Requirement. Neville had been working with it and discovered that if the request was worded correctly, a person could create a room that would keep out certain types of people or even all other people — a real boon for those seeking security and privacy.

Once they were inside, Jasmine pulled out the small piece of parchment and rolled it open for Hermione to finally see. On it was written just one word: _Map_. Next to it was a small mark that looked like a paw print.

"Map?" Hermione asked. "What does that mean?"

"I've been thinking about it off-and-on all day," Jasmine answered. "As soon as I saw the paw print, I was certain this came from Sirius, which means that "Map" can only refer to one thing..."

"The password for the Marauder's Map!" Hermione finished.

"Exactly," replied Jasmine, who then pulled out her wand, touched it to the parchment, and recited, "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good." Instantly, the letters on the parchment pulled apart, expanded, and reformed to create a new message: _Hogsmeade. January 16. 10AM._

"Well," Hermione said, "I guess this means we'll be meeting Sirius in Hogsmeade."

"Yeah, but he doesn't say where." noted Jasmine with a frown. "I suppose he plans on finding us. We'll just have to be sure we're standing someplace public at 10AM.

"Right," Hermione agreed. "You'd better destroy that, just in case."

Jasmine dropped the note to the stone floor, and before Hermione could stop her, Jasmine incanted firmly, " _ **Incendio!**_ "

The resulting fireball certainly destroyed the note. It also created a scorch mark nearly a meter in diameter where the note used to be. Because the floor was so close and the fireball was so large, a backblast was produced which hit the two witches squarely in the front. They received scorched robes, blackened faces, and singed-off eyebrows. The horrible smell of burnt hair hung all around them as they coughed up soot from their lungs.

"Oops," Jasmine said in a small voice.

"Jasmine Dorea **Potter!** _*Cough! Cough!*_ What the **bloody hell** were you thinking?!" came Hermione's outraged response.

"Language!" Jasmine said reflexively. Her eyes bugged out when she realized how badly she had just compounded her error, judging by the look on her girlfriend's face.

She bolted for the door.

Hermione took off in pursuit, stinging hexes flowing from her wand like water from a firehose. Jasmine at least had the presence of mind to lead the chase to the hospital wing, where she knew Madam Pomfrey would save her skin. Now if only something could be done for her eyebrows...

* * *

Fred and George were forced to use their potions knives to cut their underwear off because by the end of the day they had shrunk so much that they couldn't be removed any other way. After comparing the cut garments with clean underwear in their trunks, they confirmed that the shrinking was real and not simply their imagination. A couple of detection spells further confirmed that their underwear had been spelled by someone, though they couldn't determine who or how.

"Well, brother of mine," one twin began, "it seems that someone got us good."

"Indeed," the second twin replied. "and with a very, very clever prank."

"Cunning, even," the first twin said. "Could it have been a Slytherin?"

"Possible," the second answered, "but if I remember correctly this started before we got to breakfast, so probably not Slytherin."

The first twin nodded. "Gryffindor or Ravenclaw, then."

"A Ravenclaw would be a good candidate for an obscure spell," the second twin said, "but a Gryffindor is more likely to have the stones to prank us."

"We'll just have to keep our eyes open," the first twin said, "so we can congratulate them on such clever spellwork."

"And then prank them back 'til they bleed!" the twins said in unison.

* * *

 **Wednesday, January 13, 1995, Morning.**

Hermione acted rather coolly towards Jasmine the next day, possibly as a consequence of the fact that her eyebrows had yet to grow back in properly. Jasmine had tried apologizing repeatedly but only received glares for her efforts. _At least no one has been dumb enough to say anything to her about her eyebrows_ , Jasmine thought ruefully. _If they did, I'm pretty sure_ _ **I'm**_ _the one who would be punished._

"This week," Professor Flitwick announced, "We'll be studying and practicing the severing charm. The incantation is _Diffindo_ and you can find diagrams of the wand movements in your texts." After waiting for all the students to find the right pages in their books, he continued, "It's important that you all take great care when practicing this charm. Although typically only used to cut non-living items, like cloth or string, it can be used to hurt a person if enough power is put behind it."

Jasmine and Hermione looked at each other uneasily, their earlier argument forgotten in light of their current situation.

"I'll be distributing pieces of cloth for you to put on your desk as targets," their Charms professor announced. "Make sure that you have your desks clear of all other material — you wouldn't want to accidentally cut up your books or homework, would you? You must also keep your wands pointed down at your desks — I don't want to see any severing charms flying around the room! If I do, those responsible will be docked points and receive detentions."

Neville raised his hand and asked, "Professor, won't we end up damaging the desks?"

"Excellent question, Mr. Longbottom," came the reply. "If you were fully mature witches and wizards, that might be a legitimate concern. Because you're all still young, though, I don't think we have much to be worried about. Desks in Hogwarts are specially charmed to resist spell damage, and you'd need to be a strong spellcaster to scratch one of them with a _Diffindo_."

Despite their professor's assurances, Hermione and Jasmine were no less cautious. When casting _Diffindo_ at their pieces of cloth, they incanted as quietly as possible, just as they did with the rest of their spellcasting, but the results were still quite dramatic. Their cloths were split in two rather violently, and they were certain that they could see slight marks on their table once they looked more closely. It wasn't enough to be obvious to anyone not specifically looking for it, but it concerned them nonetheless.

Neville was still having trouble, a situation which didn't surprise either witch. The white spell that came out of his wand was far weaker than average in the class and it barely rent the cloth he was aiming at. Professor Flitwick tried to help, but in the end he instructed him to get more practice outside of class. Hermione and Jasmine were given five points each for doing such a good job so quickly, then he handed them other objects to try the spell on.

By the end of the class, the two Gryffindor witches were easily cutting apart everything that Professor Flitwick had given them. In a couple of cases they had to deliberately speak more firmly, which they felt increased the power they were using, but that was all it took for them to quickly cut up books, pieces of wood, leather, stone, and even a piece of metal.

What they didn't realize was that Flitwick had started giving them materials which they shouldn't have been able to cut apart with a _Diffindo_ spell. In fact, a mature witch or wizard shouldn't have been able to do much more than mark some of it. The leather, for example, was old dragonhide — so old and worn that it had lost much of its magical resistance, granted, but it was still dragonhide. The fact that these two fourth-year witches were cutting everything up with barely any difficulty both amazed and bothered him.

Going over to their table after all the students had left, he closely examined the surface, and the new marks there stood out like beacons to him. They weren't deep, but Flitwick had been teaching in this room for years, and he knew each piece of furniture intimately. There was no question but that those two witches had marked this magically-resistant tabletop — and the very first time they cast _Diffindo_ , to boot.

 _I'm going to have to sit down and talk to Minerva to find out what's going on with those two_ , Filius Flitwick thought to himself with a frown. _There are several things that simply do not add up._

* * *

 **Thursday, January 14, 1995, Late Morning.**

At the end of Transfiguration, Hermione and Jasmine stayed back and gave their professor a questioning look. After she sealed and silence the door, Hermione spoke up. "Professor, would you be able to monitor our spellcasting this Saturday afternoon? Jasmine really needs to get in some practical work before the second task, and we'd both like a chance to practice working on the power of our spells."

Professor McGonagall looked them over for a moment before responding, "And how are you two doing with your spells in class? I've noticed that there haven't been any problems here lately."

"We've been trying to whisper our incantations as much as possible," Jasmine answered. "Hermione read about how we'll have to cast silently later on and that silent casting can reduce a spell's power. So we tried it, and though we haven't been able to do any spells silently, whispering seems to weaken them considerably.."

"Yes," Hermione added, "our spells still seem to be stronger than they should for fourth year work, but I don't think that it's enough to draw attention."

Professor McGonagall nodded, pleased that they'd been able to find a way to not be too obvious about what was happening. "That's a good idea, and if anyone notices that you're whispering, you have a good excuse, too. Very well, I can free up part of my Saturday to observe and advise. What time were you thinking?"

"Well," Jasmine said, "we wanted to have the morning for Hogsmeade, so we thought that the afternoon would be enough, at least for this initial session. Then we'll see what I need to work on." She didn't want to tell her professor about meeting Sirius because she didn't know if she was under any oaths to report the presence of a criminal. It was one thing to know that they might talk to him at some point in the future, but another to know that he'd be in town on a specific day.

"That will be fine," Professor McGonagall answered. "Why don't you come by here after lunch and take me to your training room?"

"Thanks!" they both said cheerily and ran out the door, almost knocking over Professor Flitwick, who was just trying to come in.

"Hello, Filius," Minerva said, watching with curiosity as her colleague proceeded to silence the door. "What seems to be the problem? I'm guessing this isn't a social call."

"Indeed it's not, Minerva," the part-goblin answered. "In fact, it concerns those two witches who just ran out of this room. I've been observing them more closely over the past couple of weeks, and what I've seen has been quite incredible. Disturbing, too, to be perfectly honest, and I wanted to come talk to you about it because I know they are two of your favorites. I figured you'd either already know what's going on or, if not, would really want to hear about it from me."

Minerva closed her eyes and slumped a little in her seat. She really didn't need this right now — Hermione and Jasmine hadn't decided on whether they wanted to trust him with some of their secrets or not, yet now he'd come to her already apparently having figured some of them out on his own.

Noting her reaction, Filius added, "I guess you do know more about what's going on. Should we have this conversation here, or in your private quarters?"

Looking back to her long-time friend and colleague, she replied, "Let's go to my quarters. We can have lunch brought in. Also, it's where I keep my Scotch."

Filius raised his eyebrows at that, not having expected this to be one of **those** conversations. _Maybe those two young witches are a lot more interesting than I realized_ , he mused to himself as he made to follow her out of the classroom.

"Don't get your hopes up too much, though," she said, noting his own reaction. "Most of what I know is under an oath. I can only tell you a few things, then you'll need to decide whether you might want to be bound by the same oath in order to learn more."

When he heard that, Filius almost tripped. Oaths were not to be trifled with, and if Minerva were under an oath, then it had to be a very serious matter indeed.

* * *

 **Friday, January 15, 1995, Night.**

When Hermione crawled into Jasmine's bed that night, it wasn't a surprise like last time. Various incidents (like Jasmine's overpowered _Incendio_ ) had prevented them from getting started on Pureheart's book when they had originally intended, but Jasmine couldn't put it off anymore, much as she loathed having to pile on more work.

"OK," announced Hermione, "Some of the material in here is easier and some is harder. Some is well above my understanding, in fact, but since I've already read a bunch, maybe that will make it easier for you because I can direct you to the best places to start. If you tried reading this on your own, you might struggle through sections that you shouldn't bother with yet and end up being frustrated."

"Shouldn't I just start at the beginning?" asked Jasmine, feeling dumb for asking a question that sounded like it should have an obvious answer.

Hermione hesitated, and Jasmine might have noticed a slight blush on her face if the light had been better. "No, not really — it's not organized like that. A lot of sections are interchangeable, in that you don't need to have read one in order to understand the others. However, some are easier to get through and understand in general. That's where I'm pointing you first."

Opening the book, Hermione had Jasmine start with the general history section. _That's the least explicit while still being interesting_ , Hermione had decided. _Jasmine's always seemed to be even more reticent and shy than I am when the subject of sex comes up. I never gave it much thought, probably because I was too wrapped up in my own embarrassment, but it was obvious once I noticed. I don't know why and I don't know how she'll react to the more explicit parts of this book, so I need to start her off as gently and gradually as possible._

* * *

In Little Hangleton, Tom Riddle was not experiencing extreme pain through the little homunculus that his soul was inhabiting. He was, however, experiencing a great deal of discomfort. He was confident that this was an improvement, though he didn't know why it would be happening and therefore didn't trust it. If he had performed some sort of spell or ritual designed to end the pain, he'd have taken credit and celebrated by torturing Wormtail a bit; but as it was he was still in the dark about what was going on.

"Wormtail!" he called out, hoping that his incompetent servant was a bit more mobile today.

"Ye-yes, my Lord?" the dumpy wizard said as he limped into the room.

"Go milk Nagini. We want Our potion early tonight," he commanded. "We are starting to feel uncomfortable and We want to see if the potion can be used to prevent Our condition from getting any worse."

"Yes, my Lord," came the meek response.

"And be quick about it, lest we lose Our patience with you and punish you again," he screamed. _Perhaps that will get him moving quicker_ , he thought.

While waiting for his potion, he returned to considering his plans and whether any of them needed to be changed. _We arranged things so that the timing would be perfect at the end of the third task_ , he thought as he frowned, _and snatching the blasted girl early would ruin all of that. On the other hand, none of that will matter if this body doesn't last until the end of the third task. Either way, it won't be long before all will bow before Us and acknowledge the magical might of Lord Voldemort!_

It never occurred to him that either his lack of a complete soul or his constant pain and discomfort might be interfering with his ability to plan or think rationally and coherently.


	25. Fortunate Daughter

**Recommendation:** This chapter's recommended fic is "A Black Comedy" by nonjon. After defeating Voldemort, Harry Potter falls into an alternate universe where he finds Sirius already living it up. Reunited again, Harry and Sirius basically screw with everyone. It's hilarious and definitely worth reading.

* * *

 **Chapter 25 - Fortunate Daughter**

 **Saturday, January 16, 1995, Morning.**

Jasmine had been practically bouncing with excitement ever since she got up that morning. It had been months since she had last seen Sirius, and today she'd finally get to see him again. She barely knew the man, but he was a link to her parents that she really, really wanted to get to know.

He had also offered to take her in, back when they thought they could clear his name, which made him the first adult she could remember who had ever expressed any desire to have her in their life. She'd made a couple of friends, sure, but none of them asked her to move in with them — even the Weasleys only took her in for a few days here and there. Sirius, though, wanted to be **family** — and she'd never had family, at least not that she could remember.

So while she may not have known him very well, she definitely wanted to. That's why she and Hermione were standing across the street from the Owl Post Office, waiting to see how Sirius was going to contact them. His message gave a time of 10AM, but he hadn't indicated any place aside from Hogsmeade. They hoped that standing in an obvious spot would do the trick.

Just when they were starting to get worried about him showing up, a tremendous shout down the street caught their attention.

"There's something going on outside the Three Broomsticks," Hermione said.

"That Merlin bedamned dog just pissed on me!" came an enraged voice from the direction of the commotion.

"Oh, no…" Jasmine said softly. "You don't think..."

Just then, a large black dog came bounding up the street, tongue lolling out and what looked like a happy grin on its face. Stumbling a few meters behind was a red-robed auror, whose very wet robes were flopping about rather than billowing impressively.

"Yes," Hermione said, "I definitely do think…."

Not sure what to do, but not willing to lose Sirius now that they had finally found him, both witches started ducking and weaving through the heavy Hogsmeade crowd, simultaneously trying to keep the black dog in sight while also trying to keep out of the sight of the angry auror. Just as the auror started to catch up to the dog and draw his wand, Jasmine reacted instinctively, her own wand snapping into her hand from the special wand holster which Neville had given her for Christmas.

"Jas..." Hermione said warningly as her own wand snapped into her hand from a matching holster. She doubted that this was a good idea, but she didn't hesitate to back her girlfriend up.

With a flick of her wrist and a whispered incantation, Jasmine cast a fast tripping jinx in between people who were milling about, trying to see what was going on. The already embarrassed auror went crashing down face-first into a large mud puddle, causing the black dog to stop, turn around, and howl in triumph. As the auror sputtered, wiping mud from his eyes and spitting out muddy water, the dog barked then loped off again down the street at a more sedate pace.

Once they had left the crowds behind and were heading out of Hogsmeade, Hermione tried to grab Jasmine's robe to complain, but she was put off by the green-eyed witch saying, "Not now, Hermione, we need to keep up with Sirius." They followed the dog up into the mountainous area around Hogsmeade and into a hidden cave where they found Sirius, already back in his human form.

"Sirius!" Jasmine cried out as she ran into his arms. The two embraced each other tightly, enjoying the affection and human contact — it was something both had had a distinct lack of in their lives. "I'm so happy to see you!" she said, tears welling in her eyes.

"I'm happy to see you, too," Sirius said, also looking more than a bit misty-eyed.

Suddenly Jasmine pulled back and started hitting him in his chest with her fist. "What do you think you're doing, coming back to Britain like this!" Each word was punctuated by another hit. "And even worse, taunting the aurors like that! Are you trying to get caught?"

"It's not my fault!" Sirius protested. "My eyesight as a dog isn't so great. I thought he was just a big, smelly fire hydrant!"

That stopped Jasmine's complaining cold as she tried to process what he said, but when she saw a grin start creeping across his face, she resumed his beating. "That's not funny!"

"Aww, sure it is!" Sirius protested again.

"No, it's not! You can get into so much trouble!"

"Fine, fine, I'm sorry," Sirius said, not sounding the least bit apologetic. "You know, your mother said the exact same thing to me when I first tried that joke."

Jasmine was torn between happiness at hearing something about her mother — teachers loved to talk about James, but rarely mentioned Lily — and anger at knowing that this wasn't the first time he'd done this. "Sirius! Please, I need you free! As much as I love having you around, I don't want you to risk yourself unnecessarily." She started sobbing then, leaning into Sirius for support as the adrenaline left her body while he wrapped her in his arms.

It was only then that it finally sank in for Sirius how much he had worried the young witch and how much he really meant to her. It had been a long, long time since anyone had cared that much about him, and he wasn't used to anyone worrying about whether he was healthy or injured, alive or dead. "I'm sorry, kitten," Sirius said softly, this time genuinely meaning it. "I didn't intend to worry you. I promise I'll be more careful from now on."

Jasmine pulled her head back and sniffed as she looked up at him, her eyes a bit red. "Promise?" she asked.

"Marauder's honor!" Sirius said with a smile, and Jasmine noticed that the wild look that had been in his eyes disappeared for just a few moments then.

Hermione had been standing discreetly to the side, not wanting to interrupt their time together despite desperately wishing that she could help her girlfriend beat some sense into the crazy man. Looking around the cave to see how Sirius had been living since his return, she wrinkled her nose at what she saw.

"Sirius?" she asked, "Where are you getting food?"

"Oh," he replied, "I go to Hogsmeade as a dog and people give me scraps. Sometimes I can catch a rat, too."

Jasmine and Hermione looked at each other with equally disgusted expressions. "No, that won't do," Hermione announced. "Winky! Dobby!" she called out, and two sharp pops heralded the arrival of the house elves. "Yes, Missy Hermy? Yes, Missy Jazzy?" they said together. Their already wide eyes got even wider as they saw the disheveled man standing in the cave with them, holding on to a sobbing Jasmine Potter.

While Sirius was snickering at their names for the girls, Hermione quickly informed them that Sirius Black was Jasmine's godfather and was, in fact, innocent of the crimes he had been imprisoned for, thus saving him from being torn apart by a couple of angry elves. She then told them that he needed their help. Not looking entirely convinced but willing to trust their mistresses, Dobby volunteered to get him clothes while Winky offered to fetch food from the Hogwarts kitchens.

Once the elves were off doing their tasks, the three humans sat down to talk about what had been happening. Most of the way through Jasmine's explanation of how the tasks had been going, Winky returned with a feast fit for a king. The picnic basket she used was expanded on the inside to hold far more than it should be able to, and it was protected by elf preservation charms to ensure that the food didn't spoil before Sirius could eat it.

"Thank you, Winky. You've done a wonderful thing here," Hermione told her. "Are you and Dobby able to listen for Sirius calling for you, even though he isn't part of your family?"

Looking up at her mistress with big, bright eyes, she said, "Yes, Missy Hermy, if you be wanting us to, we be listening for Doggyfather's calling."

"Excellent, Winky. Please do that," Hermione responded. "We'll tell Dobby the same when he gets back."

Sirius was chuckling again, thinking it was hilarious to hear Hermione being called "Missy Hermy," but his amusement faltered a bit at being called "Doggyfather" himself.

Just then, Dobby popped back with a pile of clothing for Sirius. All of it was clean, warm, and fit him reasonably well. "This is fantastic, Dobby — where did you get it all?" Jasmine asked.

"Hoggywarts be storing lost clothing for many, many years," the elf explained. "Dobby be taking and cleaning old clothing that nobody be wanting anymore."

"That was really smart, Dobby," Hermione praised the elf. "We've already asked Winky to listen for Sirius calling for help, and we'd like you to do the same, OK?"

"Yes, Missy Hermy," he replied, vigorously nodding his head. "Dobby do!" And with that, he popped away.

"Those have to be the happiest and most cheerful house elves I've ever seen," observed Sirius.

"That's because we treat them well," Hermione said pointedly. "We've made them part of our family, not just slaves."

Sirius nodded in understanding. "My family always treated house elves like disposable beasts, so I guess I shouldn't be surprised that they were much more mean spirited. But enough of that — what are you doing for training?"

The girls explained how they had commandeered a spare classroom for practice, but Hermione lamented how difficult it was to track down really useful spells, even in the Hogwarts library.

"The problem is," Hermione explained, "there are so many books filled with information, but most of it just isn't very useful for what we need. All those thousands upon thousands of spells, yet hardly any for real combat or self-defense. I have to sift through dozens of books to find just one or two spells that might be powerful enough to put a dent in whatever Jasmine is facing."

Hermione was clearly frustrated, and Sirius sat looking at her thoughtfully before responding. "Part of the problem is that so many of the really effective combat spells are a bit dark — or grey at best — and you won't find them to be easily accessible in Hogwarts, if they can be found in any books there at all."

"Why is that?" Jasmine asked.

"Well," Sirius answered, "combat requires you to hurt people. Any spell specifically designed for that purpose won't be very light. There's a difference between a spell that can merely be used to cause harm and a spell crafted for the sole purpose of causing harm to a human. Then there's the fact that you can hurt someone more if you cast a spell fueled by negative emotions and a strong desire to cause injury. That makes a spell grey at the very least. This doesn't make the spells evil," he hastened to add, "but hurting a person — even someone who truly deserves it — is **not** a nice thing to do. It may be appropriate and necessary, but it's hardly good."

Jasmine nodded and said, "I guess that makes sense. But what am I going to do? The other students have more experience than me. I'm sure Viktor Krum has had access to darker spells in Durmstrang, and I have no idea what sort of education they get in France. I think I really need to learn some spells like that."

Sirius sighed in resignation and offered, "Well, I should be able to get access to my family home. I never wanted to go back there — it's a nasty place with even nastier memories for me — but it has a well-stocked library with lots of books on darker magic. I'm sure that there's material there you can use, though I'm reluctant to send you anything really dark." He hadn't ever wanted to go back to that house, much less while he was still suffering from the aftereffects of Azkaban; but if it meant helping his goddaughter, then he'd do it. "I learned more than a few such spells, but that was a long time ago, and I doubt I'd be able to teach them very well. It'd be best if I used some books."

"That would be wonderful, Sirius!" Jasmine exclaimed, not noticing the increasingly troubled look on Hermione's face. "You don't have to send us anything that bothers you, but perhaps if you could look through some books and write down spells that seem reasonable?"

Sirius found that agreeable, saying, "Sure. I may not want witches your age looking through an entire book of dark magic, but I think I'm responsible enough to pick out spells that aren't too dark for you to use — especially if you promise to use them for self-defense or situations like the tournament. I don't want to hear about you hexing fellow students in the halls with darker spells that were designed for combat!"

"We promise, Sirius," Jasmine said. "We have no interest in doing anything like that. Honest, I just want to survive this stupid tournament!"

"Wait a minute," Hermione said, finally stepping into this part of the conversation, "I'm not so sure about this. Do we really need to start learning spells that are designed to hurt people? It would be bad enough to have to use violence at all, but to deliberately set out to learn it… I'm not sure I can support that, Jasmine. It sounds too much like you're going and looking for trouble."

Clearly frustrated, Jasmine responded, "Hermione, we've talked about this. Like I told you before, my life is dangerous. I may only be fourteen, but I've already faced so much… and it's just going to get worse." Sirius had heard about Jasmine's dangerous adventures last year when she rescued him, and he wasn't happy to be reminded about them now.

"We both know for a fact that Voldemort isn't dead," Jasmine continued. "We both know he wants to come back. We have to assume that, sooner or later, he'll find a way. When that happens, he'll be coming after me, and I won't be able to defeat him with logical arguments, or simply hit him with a disarming spell and call it a win. I'm pretty sure I'll have to kill him in order to stop him — and I won't deny that part of me wants to do it, too, to avenge my parents."

Jasmine shifted sideways so she was sitting right up against Hermione and put her arm around the increasingly depressed-looking witch. "And that's not all," Jasmine said. "Voldemort was only as much of a threat as he was because of his followers — wizards and witches who were not only willing to rape, torture, and murder, but **eager** to do so. Many of them never went to prison; instead, they went on to achieve influential positions in society — people like Lucius Malfoy. They'll rejoin Voldemort when he returns, and they'll encourage their kids to do the same. Do you think kind words and logical arguments will help me avoid fighting them?"

Hermione silently shook her head, accepting Jasmine's statements but not quite willing to accept their implications.

Sirius stepped forward and knelt before the two witches, unshed tears in his eyes. "You have no idea how much it kills me that the two of you have to even debate this. Merlin, this is a war that James and I were supposed to finish. You two should have been able to grow up in a time of peace where the most difficult thing you had to deal with was deciding which bloke to date!" He didn't notice the look the two witches shot each other as he dabbed at his eyes.

Catching Hermione's gaze, he said, "As much as I hate to admit it, Jasmine's right. She's already had to fight far too much, and she'll have to fight again. It's horrible and it's not right, but it's also reality." Turning to Jasmine, he said, "Hermione's right, too, kiddo. Hurting someone in a fight is one thing, but deliberately learning spells that have no purpose other than to hurt people is another. It's much worse. You're asking for spells that are normally only learned by aurors, hit wizards, and mature adults in similar professions."

Sirius grabbed one hand from each girl in his own before continuing, "Most wizards and witches go their entire lives without learning such spells. They live peacefully and happily, never having to seriously contemplate how to use their magic to best harm another human being. And that's a good thing. If only everyone could live like that! But they can't: the only way that most can have such lives is if a small number pay the price of learning how to wield violence as a tool for protecting the innocent. Learning how to use your magic to harm others changes you, and it's not something you can ever unlearn.

"I suppose it's tough for muggles, too, but it's especially hard on magicals because our magic is tied to our souls. This means that learning how to use your magic to harm others affects your soul, not just your mind. That's why most wizards and witches wisely stay away from such spells, even to the point of finding it very difficult to harm others in defense of themselves. James and I paid the price of learning them — and we did so in the expectation that you never would. Certainly not at the age of fourteen!"

"I know, Sirius," Jasmine said, giving his hand a squeeze before he finally let them go. "This isn't something that I'm eager to do for its own sake, but I don't see that I have any real choice. If I don't learn how to fight — and not merely fight to survive, but to win… to stop those who want to harm me and others — then my only other options are to hide or roll over and die."

Sirius nodded and said, "I wish you weren't right, but I think you are. That's why I'm willing to help you find the right sorts of spells — spells that will help you get the job done but won't twist you too much. I know you've already killed and will probably have to kill again, but I don't want it to damage you any more than it has to."

Hermione had been silent this entire time, thinking about how police officers and soldiers volunteered to use violence to protect society and thus make it possible for people like her and her parents to eschew violence. _Is that something I can do?_ she wondered. _Can I pay the price of learning violence in order to protect myself and others… to protect Jasmine? Put that way, it hardly seems like much of a choice, does it?_

Nodding, Hermione said, "I understand what you're saying. I just... I'm not sure if it's something I'm cut out for. I was always taught to talk things out or to get help from others, not to solve problems violently. I guess I'm just not used to being faced with violence like that." Turning to Jasmine, she continued, "I'll have to think about it. Is that OK, Jas?"

"Of course," Jasmine said as she rubbed her girlfriend's back soothingly. "Just because I have to walk this path doesn't mean that I'll force you to do the same." Turning to face Sirius, she said, "Regardless of what Hermione decides, I'll still want those spells."

"Not a problem," Sirius responded, glad to finally be able to offer some real help to his goddaughter. He stood back up and returned to the rock he had been sitting on before saying, "Now, what can you tell me about the Yule Ball? I think I read in the paper that you attended with Neville Longbottom. I knew his parents — good people. So, how long have you two been a couple, eh?"

The last was asked with a lewd wiggling of the eyebrows, something that really didn't go over well with either of the witches. He didn't notice this, however, and managed to dig himself even deeper by turning to Hermione to say, "And the same reports showed you with that Durmstrang bloke, Viktor Krum. Is there anything going on between the two of you?"

"No! Sirius, please! Get your mind out of the gutter," Jasmine complained. "Neville and I only went as friends. Nothing more. There never has been and never will be anything between us, I guarantee it!"

Surprised at how emotional Jasmine was, and how quickly she got that way, Sirius said, "You sound awfully upset for someone who only went as friends. What was that muggle phrase Lily taught me? Oh, yeah: Methinks the lady doth protest too much."

Jasmine just had a horrified expression on her face, so Hermione interjected, "The reason she's so upset, Sirius, is because Neville's gran saw the same newspaper reports you did and got the bright idea to try to fix Neville and Jasmine up with a marriage contract. And since we fear that Dumbledore has been acting as her magical guardian, we couldn't be sure that he wouldn't sign it on her behalf."

After giving him a moment to let that sink in, Hermione continued, "We all had a really bad scare for a couple of hours before we got word that she had burned it. Oh, and for your information, Viktor and I only went as friends, too. There's no more going on between him and me than there is going on between Jasmine and Neville."

Sirius blanched as he heard that explanation. "A marriage contract? I knew Augusta was a staunch traditionalist, but I'm surprised she'd go that far. It almost smacks of desperation. And why are you so worried about Dumbledore?"

"Actually, Sirius, the situation with Dumbledore is potentially quite bad." Reaching into her bag, Hermione pulled out a stack of parchment. "Here is a copy of the notes we've taken on problems we've seen with Dumbledore. I'll leave them here for you to read. Oh, and here's some extra parchment along with a quill and some ink. If you think of anything to add, it would be helpful if you could write it down. We're gathering as many stories and as much evidence as we can, just in case we can use it in the future."

Sirius was surprised at the extent of the notes the girls had put together. It looked like he had some reading to do, and that was before he even thought about going to the library at Grimmauld Place. He definitely wasn't going to bring up her date with the Longbottom boy again, though. That seemed to be a real sore spot.

"I guess it's a good thing I didn't let him know I was coming back to Britain, then," Sirius said.

"Were you supposed to?" Jasmine asked.

Sirius shrugged. "Actually, I wasn't supposed to come back at all, but I couldn't stay away with you in danger. I had planned on contacting the old man at some point, but now..."

"We won't say anything to him," Jasmine promised.

"Speaking of Neville, though," Hermione started again, "He is a friend and has become a much closer friend over the past year."

"Yeah, especially when Ron bailed after my name came out of the Goblet," Jasmine put in.

Hermione shook her head in disappointment over the Weasley boy. "He's gotten better, but it will be a bit before we trust him as much again. Anyway, Neville has gotten close and so has Ginny Weasley, ironically. They've been helping us get Jasmine prepared and have even been keeping our secrets, like the existence of those notes I gave you."

"So we were wondering," Jasmine said, looking a bit hesitant, "what do you think about us telling them about you? You know, about how you're innocent and how we prevented you from being Kissed?"

Sirius considered that. "I think it's fine if they know I'm innocent," he said eventually. "I can hardly object to that news being spread around, now can I? But I wouldn't tell them that I'm back in Britain. No matter how trustworthy they are, they could still have that information taken from their minds without their even realizing it."

"What?" Hermione cried. "People can read our minds?"

"Yes," Sirius answered as he nodded. "It's not true mind reading, strictly speaking, but that's a close enough description. The skill is called Legilimency, and the defense is called Occlumency. Both are difficult to learn, so not many people become very skilled at either one. Well, it's not too hard to learn enough to at least detect an intrusion, especially if the person doing it isn't a master or trying to be really stealthy, but in general it's difficult to get very good at defending yourself."

"How common are these skills? Do you think anyone in Hogwarts has them?" Hermione asked, now very worried.

Sirius thought about that for a moment, then said, "Dumbledore can do it. I can't remember for sure if he's a master, but it wouldn't surprise me." After another pause, he added, "And now that I think about it, I would suspect Snivellus, too. If he has spied for either side, he'd need it."

"Snivellus?" Jasmine asked.

"Yeah, that's a nickname your father and I used for Snape back when we were all in school," Sirius answered.

"Ugh, he's such a horrid teacher," Jasmine complained.

"It's true," Hermione added. "For some reason he seems to target Jasmine and Neville. Well, he's horrid to almost everyone outside of Slytherin, but Gryffindors most of all. With Jasmine and Neville, though, it's a whole new level of meanness."

Sirius looked rather contrite at hearing that, causing Jasmine to ask, "Do you know why he hates me so much?"

Reluctantly, Sirius answered, "Unfortunately, I might. Long story short: James, Remus, Peter, and I didn't treat Snape very well when we were all at Hogwarts. Some of it may not have been entirely deserved, but he was clearly a fan of the Dark Arts right from the beginning and we hated dark magic, so a lot of it was definitely deserved. At the same time, though, he was close to your mother, Jasmine. In fact, I think Lily was his only friend. And since James got it into his head early on that he was going to date Lily, well... that just made the conflict all the worse."

"Snape and my mum were friends? Ick!" Jasmine exclaimed.

"Yes, she was his only friend, I believe." Sirius thought a bit more, then continued, "Actually, now that I think on it, I strongly suspect that he wanted to be more than friends…"

"Double ick!" Jasmine said in a strangled voice and started making gagging noises.

"Yeah, no kidding," Sirius said. "Your father had a similar reaction, I think. Anyway, during fifth year James did something childish to Snape, I don't remember what; and Lily tried to defend him like always, and Snape lashed out at her, calling her a mudblood. That wasn't the first time he'd said something foul like that, and it certainly wasn't the last, but I'm positive that it was the first time he said it to Lily. After that, she ended their friendship completely. The following year, James started getting his act together and Lily started to treat him better, eventually leading to them dating and marrying."

"If Snape liked Jasmine's mum so much, shouldn't he treat Jasmine better since she looks so much like her mum?" Hermione asked.

"You'd think, sure, but Snape was never a very good person. Remember, he was involved with the Dark Arts even before coming to Hogwarts and grew close to future Death Eaters in Slytherin very quickly. I suspect that Jasmine reminds him of how badly he screwed up with Lily. Since he's a bitter, spiteful bully, this may be causing him to take out his grief on her."

"That's so… immature!" Hermione said, barely containing her outrage.

"As if we didn't already have enough reason to dislike him," Jasmine growled. "Basically, he bullies me because my mum refused to be friends with him once he let his inner bigot out to play in front of her."

"I'm afraid that Slytherin's reputation is not entirely undeserved," Sirius pointed out. "Not everyone in Slytherin is evil, but…."

Suddenly, Hermione got a horrified look on her face. "It could be worse, though." At Jasmine's questioning look, she continued somewhat hesitantly, "If he really did like your mum, uh, you know, that way, and if you reminded him too much of your mum, then… then if he had positive thoughts instead of negative thoughts when he looked at you… they might be, uh, you know.…" Hermione trailed off at that point, clearly not wanting to articulate the rest.

She didn't need to.

Jasmine started retching while Sirius turned green. "The very thought of Severus Snape and Lily's child in that way… ugh, I won't be able to eat for a week!" he groaned.

"What do you mean by him having spied?" Hermione asked, desperate to change the topic.

"Well, I don't know all the details," Sirius answered, still looking a bit queasy, "Because, you know, I've been in prison." He smiled at his joke before continuing, "From what I've been able to learn, Dumbledore personally testified on Snape's behalf after the war was over and thus kept him out of Azkaban. Then he apparently gave him a job teaching kids. I don't know what Dumbledore said to convince people either that Snape should be free or that he should be allowed to teach, but claiming that he was a spy for us is the most likely answer."

Hermione bit her bottom lip in thought at this news, but before she could say anything Jasmine decided to pipe up, "Back to the previous subject, do you know what we need to do to learn either Legilimency or Occlumency? I don't fancy either Dumbledore or Snivellus rummaging around in my head." Hermione nodded fervently at that, too distracted by the topic to chastise Jasmine for her name choice.

Sirius thought for a minute before saying, "I'm not sure there is anything in the Hogwarts library...except maybe the Restricted Section. I'll look to see if I can find anything decent in my family library, but books won't be enough. They'll get you started, but you need to work with someone on a regular basis to get good at it. It's like... well, I guess it's like learning to ride a broom: theory's all very well and good, but eventually you have to climb on and get up in the air if you want to get any good."

"I doubt any of our friends knows either Legilimency or Occlumency..." said Hermione.

"No worries," Sirius reassured them. "You do need to work with someone who's already skilled, but you can make some good progress working with each other, too, especially early on. While you're getting started, I'll refresh my own skills. That way, when you're ready, I can practice with you."

The witches looked at each other for a moment, then said simultaneously, "Brilliant!"

Sirius smiled, once again pleased to be able to help his goddaughter. He'd missed so many years due to his rash actions and foolish choices. He really wanted to make up for all that, and now it looked like he was being given the chance.

"Oh, I almost forgot," Jasmine suddenly said, "I meant to say something back when we were discussing Dumbledore. What do you know about mail redirection magic?"

"Mail redirection…" Sirius said hesitantly. "I'm not sure I know anything at all. Why?"

"Apparently, I'm not getting all of my mail. We discovered that when we went to Gringotts a few weeks ago." Jasmine then explained the whole story to Sirius, who just grew more and more concerned.

"That sounds pretty bad, Jasmine," Sirius finally said. "I'm afraid that I don't know anything about magic of that sort, but I'll look in my family library for that, too. And you suspect Dumbledore?"

"He has the power, opportunity, and motive," Jasmine responded. "Really, I don't know who else it could possibly be."

Sirius sighed and said, "I guess you're right, he does seem like the best suspect. And I'm worried about that audit, too. It's rare that goblins need to do such a thing. At least, as far as I know it is. If there are any problems with your accounts, it could mean real trouble."

Jasmine slumped a bit when he said that. She had managed to forget about the audit, what with everything else going on, and didn't really like being reminded of it.

"Whatever it is that's going on, though," Sirius said as he reached over and put his hand over hers, "I promise that I'll be there to help you deal with it. You won't be on your own, I guarantee it."

"Thanks!" Jasmine said, jumping up to hug her godfather. As she squeezed him tightly, she thought back to the discussion with McGonagall about having family that would support her. She might not have been able to tell him about her real relationship with Hermione yet, but even so, his willingness to stand by her in things like this meant the world to her.

Hermione looked at her watch and said, "I'm sorry, Sirius, but we should probably get going. We have an appointment to meet with Professor McGonagall so she can supervise us while we train with some new hexes and curses."

Sirius brightened at that news. "She's helping you out with the tournament?"

"Technically, no," Jasmine answered. "She's not allowed. But she is allowed to help students with classwork. These are spells that are on our syllabus for this year, and she's helping to make sure that we can cast them all correctly. So it falls within what little they told us about the tournament rules, if only just barely."

"Well," Sirius said, "I'm glad she's doing something. She's strict, but she really knows her stuff, so be sure to learn whatever you can from her."

 _Oh, definitely!_ Jasmine thought with a private smile. Aloud, she said, "Thanks, Sirius, we will." She reached out to hug him again, and the two embraced for a long moment.

"I was lucky to learn about this Hogsmeade date, but if you tell me the others I can make a point of being here to spend a little time with you," Sirius said hopefully.

Jasmine closed her eyes and rested her head against his shoulder. "That would be great. I wish we could have more time together."

"Me too, kitten," he said softly into her hair. "Me too."

* * *

 **Saturday, January 16, 1995, Early Afternoon.**

Just after lunch, while walking to the seventh floor to meet their two Gryffindor friends to discuss the second task, Hermione turned to Jasmine and said, "I thought you wanted to find out what Padfoot knew about veela."

Jasmine rolled her eyes at that. "Really, Hermione? You saw him. What do you think he would have said if we had brought up veela? He probably would have transformed and started humping the rocks!"

Hermione tried not to laugh but wasn't having much success. She could hardly deny Jasmine's observation — Sirius was a great guy, but he did have some problems, one of which seemed to be terminal immaturity.

"I hope he can come through for us with those spells, though" Jasmine added. "Even just a few powerful spells might make a big difference for me, whether in the tournament or the next time someone tries to kill me."

Hermione didn't say anything to that, still trying to come to terms with the conversation they had had that morning.

Once everyone had arrived, Neville went first. "I looked into the possibility of talking underwater while using gillyweed, and it doesn't look like it's something you can count on. You can make noises, barely, but it seems that the human throat can't project language properly through water."

"I guess I shouldn't be surprised," Jasmine said, though her disappointment was clear. "I've placed an order for gillyweed, so hopefully it will get here in time. Until then, I'll have to practice silent casting with some basic spells."

"And not just silent casting," Hermione observed, "but casting underwater as well, because it might make a difference. We can practice that even without the gillyweed." This was said with a sly smile which Jasmine returned as both thought about spending more time in a pool. Together. In swimsuits.

"Speaking of spells," Ginny said, trying to move things away from the looks the other two witches were giving each other, "I found that grindylows are easily frightened by bright, flashing lights. There isn't anything special that works against merpeople, but you do have to be prepared for them using physical weapons."

"Great!" Hermione said. "That means _Relashio_ will be a good spell to use against the grindylows, even over and above the damage it can do. Then Jasmine has the bubble jinx to incapacitate someone or something without harming them… I think we should add _Reducto_ and _Diffindo_ to the list of spells you should learn to cast silently, Jasmine. Even weakened, they'll still help."

Jasmine nodded in agreement. "And if we can make the _Diffindo_ wide enough, it can hit multiple targets. Ginny said the grindylows travel in packs, so I'll need a way to hit more than one at a time."

"OK," Hermione said, " _Relashio_ should do that as well, but two would be better. A wider, longer _Diffindo_ would be weaker, but that might not be so bad. Next up: navigation in the lake. I found an old map in the library which I copied by hand." Hermione pulled out a large parchment with a crudely drawn map of the Black Lake on it. "I don't know if the original was to scale, but this at least gives us the relative positions of important landmarks. If we can figure out where you're starting from, that will help more, but with even a couple of landmarks you should have an easier time finding the merpeople's village."

"Won't the tracking charms take her right to the hostages?" Neville asked.

"Yes, they will," Hermione responded, "but we can't be sure that the tournament organizers won't find and remove them. In fact, those of us who are at risk will need to learn how to cast them so we have the option of doing it at the last minute, if the opportunity presents itself. But we need to be prepared for the possibility that they won't work or will be removed."

Neville sighed. He knew she was right, but it was starting to feel like every problem solved raised two more, and even their backup plans needed backup plans. Hopefully more progress could be made when they met with other champions tomorrow morning...


	26. We are the Champions

**Recommendation:** This chapter's recommended fic is "The Best Way" by Maxtaf. One-shot in which Harry comes up with a safer, more Slytherin way of dealing with the second task of the Triwizard Tournament.

* * *

 **Chapter 26 - We Are the Champions**

 **Saturday, January 16, 1995, Afternoon.**

After meeting with Neville and Ginny to discuss the second task, Hermione and Jasmine headed to Professor McGonagall's classroom to fetch her for their spellcasting practice. Upon entering the Transfiguration classroom, the two witches were surprised to find not just Professor McGonagall, but also Professor Flitwick. "Uh, we're sorry for interrupting," Hermione stammered out. "We can come back later, it's not an emergency or..."

"It's alright," Professor McGonagall interrupted. "Earlier this week, after you left class, Professor Flitwick here came by to talk to me. It seems that he's observed a number of curious things about the way you two have been behaving...and casting your spells. He reached some interesting conclusions about what he observed, and he wanted to share it all with me to see what I thought."

Both younger witches stood there like deer caught in headlights, neither knowing what to do. They were caught! But Professor McGonagall was there and she wasn't worried! But Professor Flitwick was there and he shouldn't know!

Finally, Professor Flitwick took pity on them and said, "You can rest assured that Professor McGonagall didn't tell me much that I hadn't already figured out on my own. She said that there was more, but that it required your trust and an oath from me. Although she didn't spell it out in so many words, I have gotten the impression that you two are involved in something very difficult, something for which you need help — and not simply with the tournament. Since she has assured me that it doesn't involve anything illegal or contrary to the interests of the school, I'd be willing to give that oath if you'd be willing to accept it."

After giving them a moment to absorb that, he added, "Of course, it doesn't have to be this very minute. You should feel free to take your time to think about it. In the meantime, I understand that Professor McGonagall was going to supervise some spellcasting practice, and I didn't get the impression that that needed the oath. I'd be happy to assist, if you'd like? I spent several years on the duelling circuit and am quite skilled at wanded combat."

Hermione and Jasmine looked intently at each other. Hermione raised her eyebrows questioningly: _What do you think? Should we trust him?_ Jasmine frowned and shook her head slightly: _Not yet._ Hermione flicked a glance in Flitwick's direction, then looked expectantly at her girlfriend: _But the spellcasting, at least?_ Jasmine's frown relaxed at that, and Hermione nodded fractionally in agreement.

The two witches turned back to their professors to see Professor McGonagall smiling knowingly while Professor Flitwick's eyes were wide. "What?" they asked simultaneously.

"Nothing," said Professor McGonagall, shaking her head in amusement. "What's your decision?"

"It's true that we didn't ask for an oath for the spellcasting practice, but that doesn't mean we don't have any concerns," Hermione said. "If we can at least have your assurance that you won't tell others about our spell practice, especially Headmaster Dumbledore, then we'd be honored to have your help."

Professor Flitwick nodded, "I expected that. Professor McGonagall indicated that there were some problems with the Headmaster, but she didn't divulge any details. Providing there are no serious health and safety issues, I can promise that I won't tell anyone else about these sessions."

"Thanks," Jasmine answered. Then, looking at Professor McGonagall, she added, "Professor, I think you can show him the material regarding the Headmaster. The main person we're keeping that from is the Headmaster himself, and it might help Professor Flitwick understand our concerns."

Professor McGonagall nodded in agreement. "I can do that later after your practice session. So, shall we all go to this room of yours?

* * *

Instead of going to the commandeered classroom, they went to the Room of Requirement. The girls weren't entirely comfortable letting their professors in on the secret (assuming they didn't know about it already), but they were pretty sure this practice session was going to take more space — and more resistance to magical damage — than the classroom could provide. They just hoped they could trust their professors not to order them to stay away from it.

Both professors were astounded at what the room could do. After Jasmine walked back and forth three times, they were presented with a large room that had practice dummies at one end and large targets at the other. According to Professor Flitwick, these were common training items for both dueling and law enforcement professions. Upon examining them, he determined that they were constructed of very solid, magic-resistant materials.

"Miss Potter, why don't you go first," Professor McGonagall said. "Stand at the marks and cast a _Diffindo_ at the practice dummy. Do it as you would normally do a spell — normally before we found this problem, I mean. Then we'll see how Miss Granger does with the same spell."

Jasmine stood at the mark, which looked to be about ten meters from the target, and firmly incanted " _ **Diffindo!**_ _"_ Not only was the target sliced cleanly in half, but a slight mark was left in the wall behind it.

The two professors just stared wide-eyed at the results of Jasmine's spell. They were no less shocked when Hermione's _Diffindo_ did about the same amount of damage. Fortunately Professor Flitwick's _Reparo_ was strong enough to put both target dummies back together.

"Well," he said, after repairing the dummies and the wall, "I'm very glad you were holding back in class the other day. I'd hate to see what would have happened to my classroom if you two had let loose."

"What other spells were you looking to test today?" Professor McGonagall asked, a bit of trepidation creeping into her voice.

"Since this is the first time," Hermione answered, "we were hoping to just do _Diffindo_ , _Relashio_ , and _Reducto_. They seemed like decent, all-purpose spells that would help in a lot of different situations and environments."

"Indeed they would," Professor Flitwick said with a subtle wink. "Let's try _Relashio_ next. That's a good spell for driving off someone or something that is attacking you without necessarily doing them much harm. It can, though, damage inanimate objects."

Standing once again at her mark, Jasmine incanted " _ **Relashio!**_ _"_ at her target. A bright stream of sparks flew out from her want, knocking the dummy over and leaving numerous scorch marks on its surface. Once again, Hermione's spell did much the same.

"That is definitely more damage than the spell would normally cause," Professor Flitwick observed as he proceeded to make repairs again. "You could seriously hurt someone if you were to use that at very close range. At more of a distance, any damage you caused would be painful, but easily fixed. So I think that's a good spell to use if you are trying to avoid causing very serious injuries."

"Unlike with _Diffindo_ ," Jasmine muttered, while Hermione appeared to be a bit disturbed at how much damage she had caused with what should have been a simple spell.

"I guess we'll look at _Reducto_ next," continued Professor Flitwick, not hearing Jasmine's comment, "and then we'll talk about how to best use these spells and how to control their power."

Standing at her mark, Jasmine incanted " _ **Reducto!**_ _"_ and hit the dummy so hard that it went flying back against the wall with pieces breaking off, flying in every direction. Jasmine threw up her hand in front of herself to protect her face, but she didn't feel anything strike her. When she lowered her hand slightly and looked, she saw that a large shield had been raised between her and the dummy.

"Oh, thank you, Professor Flitwick," she said, "I guess that spell is a bit too dangerous to use against a target that close."

"Don't thank me, my dear," answered her professor, surprise evident on his face, "I didn't do anything. That shield is yours, not mine."

"But… I didn't cast a shield," she objected.

"Not with your wand," observed Professor McGonagall, looking a little less surprised. "I think you cast it wandlessly in your panic over getting hit by debris.

"So it's accidental magic?" Hermione asked.

"Not quite," Professor Flitwick answered as the shield shimmered out of existence. "That was a bit too deliberate and controlled to be true accidental magic. Unexpected, perhaps, but not accidental. It looks like the boost to Miss Potter's magic has given her enough power to do at least a few wandless spells."

"I thought wandless magic was almost impossible, except for simple spells," Hermione said.

"Generally speaking, that's true," Professor McGonagall answered. "Wandless magic, since it's produced without a focus, is horribly inefficient. It requires much more power to accomplish something, and you can never get precision work done with it. Basic spells like summoning, banishing, and a shield all lack 'details,' for want of a better word. They are produced by very simple concepts in our minds."

"This is very good news, Miss Potter," Professor Flitwick said. "Even a mediocre shield cast wandlessly can give you a huge advantage in a fight. A wand can only cast one spell at a time, so normally a person has to choose between an offensive or a defensive spell. You, however, can block at least some attacks wandlessly, freeing up your wand for more offensive measures."

Hermione and Jasmine both looked at each other with a bright gleam in their eyes.

"Well, it looks like we have a bit more to do than we anticipated," announced Professor McGonagall. "First, we need to help you find ways to control the power you put behind spells. Second, we need to help you practice your ability to cast a couple of useful spells wandlessly."

* * *

The rest of the afternoon passed far too quickly, at least in the girls' minds. They soon determined that Hermione could cast wandlessly just as well as Jasmine, and that both witches could summon, banish, shield, and create a light wandlessly, at least some of the time. Not every attempt succeeded, but enough did to keep the witches from giving up hope.

Flitwick told them that they should practice every night, if possible. The more they practiced, the more their off-hand would get accustomed to casting spells and the more efficient those spells would grow to be.

This was something the witches agreed to immediately. Professor McGonagall gave them permission to begin a routine of practicing basic — and relatively harmless — wandless spells every night, such as summoning and banishing pillows back and forth behind their bed curtains. She also agreed that practicing silent spells such as _Lumos_ was safe enough to do unsupervised.

Less progress was made in power control, however. Both witches demonstrated an ability to weaken their spells by whispering, but the problem was consistency: though weaker, there was still a large variation in just how strong the spells were. Neither of the girls had enough of a feel for their magic yet to tell how much they were using or how best to regulate it.

Unfortunately, there was no quick or easy fix for that. All they could do was keep using their magic over and over until they started to recognize the feeling when magic was gathered, focused, and expelled from their bodies. Meditation and concentration would help, but nothing could make up for experience.

"You know," Professor Flitwick pointed out near the end of their time that day, "there's a way for you to kill two birds with one stone here. I recommend regular target practice with a variety of spells. Doing this will improve accuracy, speed, and eventually your ability to feel and sense your magic. If you do this with, say, a stinging hex, we shouldn't need to worry about supervising you — you should still be careful, of course."

"Indeed," Professor McGonagall added, "It doesn't matter how powerful a spell is if you don't hit anything with it. A weak but accurate spell is preferable to a powerful spell that hits the wrong target."

"Oh, quite right, Minerva," Professor Flitwick said excitedly. "That principle is drilled into the heads of all aspiring duelists. Accuracy must come first, then the ability to use powerful or unusual spells."

Hermione and Jasmine took this to heart. They decided to try to use the Room of Requirement at least three times a week for accuracy practice with stinging hexes and once or twice a week for supervised practice with other spells that they were learning in their classes. In the meantime, McGonagall and Flitwick promised that one or both would spend time with them every Saturday so they could learn and practice new spells that they might need in the near future.

* * *

 **Sunday, January 17, 1995, Morning.**

When Fleur, Viktor, and Cedric joined Jasmine, Hermione, Neville, and Ginny in the old classroom which the Gryffindors had commandeered for training, it was the first time since the first task that all four champions had been together.

"OK," announced Hermione, taking charge of the meeting as she frequently did, "just so we're all clear, we're meeting like this to compare notes and possibly plan out a joint response in case actual hostages are taken for the Second Task."

All the champions nodded, with Viktor adding, "Absolutely. Like you, I also guessed that the clue vas probably about a person, but I didn't realize how likely it vas that there would be danger for a hostage. That is vhy I am agreeing to this. Ve accept the dangers when ve submit our names, but no one else should be endangered." This, too, elicited agreement from everyone present.

"First thing, then," Hermione said, "is what can be done to protect and prepare potential hostages before the task. We can't protect everyone, but we can protect some. Maybe those most at risk? What has everyone come up with for that?"

The only idea that anyone had been able to come up with was some sort of tracking charm, though everyone suggested a different one. In the end, most agreed that the tracking charm which Hermione had discovered was probably best. Since it was designed for parents to use with children, it included a health-monitoring component. They also agreed that likely candidates for being taken hostage should be taught how to apply a tracking charm to themselves, just in case.

"One option we haven't discussed and probably should," Jasmine said after that, "is hiding potential hostages."

The other champions looked confused at this, and Fleur said, "But 'ow can zat be done? Cannot your 'eadmaster find anyone in ze castle?"

"Normally, yes," Jasmine answered, "but we have access to one place that neither he nor anyone else can get to — well, nobody except me. I can get people down there and I can get them out. But we need to decide soon because… well… it's a right mess, and it will need to be cleaned and fixed up first."

Cedric's eyes widened as he said, "You're talking about the Chamber of Secrets, aren't you?" Jasmine just nodded.

"What eez zis Chamber of Zecrets?" Fleur asked. Jasmine and Hermione proceeded to explain to the others what happened during their second year. Fleur and Viktor knew none of it and were alternately horrified and impressed. Cedric was aware of some of the story, but much of what he thought he knew turned out to be wrong.

"So," Hermione concluded, "hiding people is possible. It will take some advance work, and Professor McGonagall thinks it would be a bad idea, but it can be done. Should we go that route? If they are determined to take hostages, then I assume they will find someone to pick if they cannot track down their preferred candidates."

No one looked happy about this, but Viktor suggested, "Is this really our decision to make — to put people in danger or not?"

"What do you mean?" Cedric asked.

"Ve should ask people vat they prefer — to risk being a hostage or to be kept somvere safe," Viktor explained.

"That's a good point," Neville responded. "You'll have to tell people anyway if you want to put tracking charms on them. You certainly can't kidnap them and take them down to the Chamber."

"I can go along with that," Jasmine said, "but the fact remains that they will have to decide soon. I don't think that the Chamber of Secrets will be a fun place to hang out in even after it's cleaned up. Right now, the access tunnel is half-caved in, and I assume there's still whatever's left of a massive basilisk corpse sitting in the middle of the Chamber itself."

"The corpse is still there?" Viktor asked.

"Sure, why wouldn't it be?" Jasmine answered.

"Vell, the laws may differ in different countries," Viktor explained, "but in most places I think you can claim the corpse of such a creature if you kill it. It vill be vorth a lot of gold."

Jasmine, Hermione, and Neville all looked at each other with interest. "OK, please don't mention that to anyone else," Hermione suddenly said, writing something down. "We'll obviously need to look into that one way or the other."

"Are there any other options for protecting the hostages?" Cedric asked.

"Well, we can try hiding them somewhere other than the Chamber," Jasmine replied, "but there isn't anywhere nearly as secure. The chances of trouble would be a lot lower, but the chances of success would be as well."

"I don't see the point," Viktor said. "if ve are going to hide hostages, we should do so in the safest place. All or nothing."

"I agree," Cedric chimed in. "Anything else?"

"Yes," Hermione replied. "We can have the parents or guardians of potential hostages write letters absolutely prohibiting their children from taking part in the Triwizard Tournament in any way except as a spectator."

"We call them anti-permission letters," Jasmine added.

"The advantage is that no one can get into trouble for that because no rules are being broken," Hermione said. "The disadvantage, and why I didn't mention it until the end, is that once the letters are submitted, we reveal that we're trying to protect hostages, and the organizers might then be on the lookout for other measures we might take. Basically, we'd be tipping our hand."

"Do we have to show them in advance?" Fleur asked.

"What do you mean?" Hermione asked.

"Well," Fleur said slowly, working it out as she spoke, "why not 'ave ze likely hostages carry ze letter with zem, and show whomever comes to ask zem to be a hostage?"

"Right," said Viktor, perking up a bit. "They von't be taking the hostages away days before the task. They vill be doing it only hours before the task — too late for them to demand the parents give permission anyvay. So they vill be forced to get someone else. Those vith the letters should be safe."

"That would work," Hermione said, nodding now. "We may not be able to apply tracking charms to whomever they do end up picking, in that case, but that was a problem with hiding potential hostages as well. If the trackers aren't an option, I have a map of the Black Lake that might help locate the merpeople village."

"One other issue we need to deal with," Cedric said, "is whether we act together or not. I say that if it turns out that they do take an object, then we don't do anything special — we follow our own, individual strategies. But if they do take hostages, then I say we work together because that would provide all the hostages with the best chance of coming out of this safely. Competing against each other wouldn't be in the hostages' best interests."

Jasmine smiled, saying, "That sounds like a very Hufflepuff way of looking at things, Cedric, and I'm in complete agreement. To be fair, though, I never wanted to be in this competition, and winning isn't as important to me as it is to the rest of you who did volunteer, so maybe my vote shouldn't count as much."

"I agree with Cedric," Fleur declared. "I do not wish to compete at the expense of others' lives or safety."

"Then it's unanimous," said Viktor. "Ve just need to create a strategy to vork as a team." Turning to Hermione, he continued, "My headmaster vill be having me swim in the lake for practice. Give me the map, and I will check it against what I find underwater." Smiling brightly at this, Hermione pulled out her map and handed it over to the Durmstrang champion.

"We should meet again," suggested Jasmine. "We all have a few things to look into anyway. Next time, each of us should come with things we can excel at, at least when it comes to moving and fighting underwater."

Everyone accepted this, and the champions all looked a little more confident: the problem of hostages hadn't been solved, but they now knew they wouldn't be alone in trying to protect whomever was chosen for them.

* * *

 **Sunday, January 17, 1995, Late Morning.**

When they were alone later, Jasmine asked Hermione, "I was wondering — can you feel Fleur's allure?"

"Sometimes," Hermione admitted. "I guess it depends on how tightly she's holding it in."

Jasmine nodded. "I think I first noticed it while we were waiting for the Yule Ball. Roger was a drooling zombie half the time."

Hermione giggled at the memory. "Oh, Merlin, he was so pathetic! But yeah, I think I noticed it then, too. It feels like… well, it's hard to describe, isn't it? It's like warm happiness. It's as if I'm ready to float away, or at least I would if I gave in to it."

Jasmine nodded, then asked, "Do you suppose we notice it because we, well, you know, like girls?"

Hermione stopped for a moment and bit her bottom lip in thought. Finally, she answered, "I hadn't thought of that, but I suspect you're right. Though I haven't noticed any girls at school who react like the boys do, and I'd expect there to be at least one."

"Why aren't we drooling all over ourselves when she's around, then?" Jasmine asked with a frown.

Hermione leaned over and gave Jasmine a kiss. "I think it's because we're in a relationship. If you let yourself, you might be affected… well, then again, maybe not, since you can throw off the Imperius curse. So I might be affected, if I let myself go. But since we're in a relationship, we don't really feel tempted to do so — we notice the allure, but it doesn't draw us in."

"Oh," Jasmine said, not having considered that. Then she smiled and kissed Hermione back. "I like the sound of that."

* * *

 **Sunday, January 17, 1995, Afternoon.**

After Professor McGonagall had served tea, she chose to focus on the most recently important issue: the two witches' spellcasting. "How are you feeling about yesterday's practice session?" she asked.

"We're both really pleased," Hermione answered. "Jasmine and I talked last night, and we agreed that these practice sessions will help us a lot. We know it will take time and work, but we're optimistic about making progress." She paused, then added wistfully, "We only wish we had some idea of why this has happened to us and what to expect in the future..."

Minerva didn't take the bait to talk about things she knew she had to remain silent about; instead, she moved on, saying, "I'm glad to hear it. Just take extra care when practicing alone. Now, how are things between the two of you? Don't feel that you have to talk about anything too personal, and I'm not trying to pry; but I also know that you can't really go to anyone else to discuss your relationship, and I want you to know that I'm available."

"Um… things are good, I guess," Jasmine said, not really sure how to answer that sort of question. "I honestly don't have anything to compare it to. But I'm happy, so... that's good, right?"

"Indeed, Miss Potter," Minerva said with a smile. "Philosophers and scholars have been debating for millennia what makes for a good relationship, but being happy is certainly a central component. The other, of course, is that your **partner** is happy."

At that, Jasmine quickly looked over at Hermione with a questioning look in her eyes. Hermione simply put her hand on Jasmine's arm and said, "Yes, Jas, I'm happy too."

"Excellent," Minerva said. "How far have you two gotten with the book? Do you have any questions about it?"

"Well..." Hermione started to answer, looking very embarrassed.

"I was letting Hermione focus on it," Jasmine jumped in to answer. "That's how we've handled a lot of extra-curricular texts, like those we've used while preparing for the first task. She can read and process faster than I do, so she reads the whole book and either gives me the little bit I really need or points me to the sections that I need to focus on."

"But while that might work while looking for ways to deal with dragons," Hermione interrupted, "last week we learned that that was a poor choice for the material in a book like the one you gave us."

Minerva nodded, understanding now why Hermione looked ashamed. "You're quite right, Miss Granger. Another factor in a good relationship is that both partners must grow together. If one grows or matures significantly faster than the other, a rift may be created."

"That's why I'm having Jasmine read portions of the book..." Hermione started.

"Unfortunately," Jasmine said, "that may always be an issue because Hermione reads so much faster than I do. I'll never be able to catch up." This caused Hermione to get a stricken look on her face as she suddenly feared that the two of them would never be compatible.

"I wouldn't necessarily worry about that," said Minerva reassuringly. "There are different ways to grow and mature. Miss Granger is a natural scholar. She thrives on books and the written word. You, Miss Potter, are a doer. An actor. You thrive on physical action. While Miss Granger will probably always read more than you, it can be argued that personal growth is better achieved through going out into the world and doing things rather than sitting in a library and reading."

Neither of the two young witches were sure whether this was a good thing or a bad thing. "What about the book, though, and the fact that I'm so much farther ahead?" asked Hermione, trying to focus on at least something she could grasp.

After a moment, Minerva suggested, "Perhaps you can just cut back on your own study of it while Jasmine catches up? There's a lot of information there that you will both be able to use. Unfortunately, I'm not aware of any ready alternatives for getting that information in this case other than by reading it."

"Oh, speaking of books," Hermione said, "back when we started all of this I wanted to learn more about our headmaster. I wanted some context for the things he's done with Jasmine — something beyond what we read on his Chocolate Frog card, I mean. Unfortunately, I can't find what I'm looking for."

"What do you mean?" Minerva asked.

"I'd like to read a more neutral and unbiased account of his early years," Hermione explained, "up through his fight with Grindelwald. Unfortunately, there is very little — except for the fight, of course. And everything I have found seems completely uncritical because they are in books that do nothing but praise him. Don't get me wrong — I'm not saying he's never done anything good, but no one is perfect. He must have made mistakes during his life. So if a book never mentions any, I can't trust that it's truly objective."

Minerva nodded and responded, "That's a very good observation. What's sadly ironic is that Professor Dumbledore himself would be the first to admit that he makes mistakes." She paused, then added, "Sometimes I have to wonder if he ever actually **learns** from his mistakes, but as a general rule he does not present himself as infallible, and I don't think he approves of books that treat him as such."

"That's good to hear, at least," Jasmine said, "but do you know of any books that explain his life in a more objective way?"

"No, not off the top of my head," Minerva said, "but I know a couple of historians who might have more insight. Bathilda Bagshot in particular might be a good person to contact."

"You know her?" Hermione asked excitedly.

"Yes, I do indeed," Minerva said, smiling slightly at Hermione's reaction. "In fact, I think she may have even known the Headmaster when he was young."

"Wait, who's Bathilda Bagshot?" Jasmine asked.

Hermione turned on her girlfriend with a horrified look on her face. "Who's Bathilda Bagshot?" she asked, her voice rising, "Who's Bathilda Bagshot? She's only the foremost living historian of magical Britain, that's who! She's also the author of the current edition of _Hogwarts: A History!_ I can't believe that you didn't know that!"

Jasmine sunk back in her chair, trying desperately to get out of the path of Hurricane Hermione.

* * *

 **Sunday, January 17, 1995, Evening.**

After their meeting with Professor McGonagall, Jasmine and Hermione headed to the library. This was not the least bit unusual, but what was unusual was the fact that Jasmine was taking the lead: it was her idea to go to the library, and she was directing the research for the first time in over three years. What was more, they headed to a part of the library that Hermione had never bothered with before: back issues of newspapers and periodicals.

"I came here back in second year while you were petrified," Jasmine explained. "Even though I spent the majority of my free time sitting by your bed in the hospital wing, sometimes I came here. At first it was just to research what was published the first time the Chamber of Secrets was opened, but later I started reading about what happened during the 1970s when Voldemort was active. I figured that between meeting what was left of him at the end of first year and dealing with the heir of Slytherin through second year, I should learn more about this nutter and what he and his merry band of minions actually did."

"Really, Jasmine?" Hermione responded with a teasing voice. "You, doing research all on your own?"

"Prat," Jasmine said. "Sit here. I can probably find the most relevant editions of the Daily Prophet fastest so you can spend your time reading. I have to warn you, though, these stories will not be pleasant."

"So that's why you insisted that I not eat too much at dinner?" Hermione asked, suddenly feeling a bit apprehensive.

"Yep," Jasmine said as she moved into shelves to start pulling out bound sets of the _Daily Prophet_.

For the next three hours, right up until the library closed and the two witches had to run to make it back to the common room before curfew, Hermione read. Jasmine brought her dozens of bound volumes of Britain's biggest magical newspaper, each with dozens of issues with stories Hermione had to read. Most weren't very long, which made it possible for her to read so many, but what they lacked in length they more than made up for in gruesomeness.

Hermione had already known that Voldemort and his Death Eaters had been a blight on magical Britain. She had known that they were awful people who did awful things. It was mostly an intellectual understanding, though. Aside from Jasmine, she had no personal contact with people who bore any obvious scars from that time and from those events, so she was never forced to face what had really happened.

At least, not until Jasmine pushed those stories in front of her.

She read about entire families being slaughtered in the dead of night. She read about women and even children being raped in front of the rest of their families before being killed. She read about people being tortured in a wide variety of horrible ways — it turned out that the cruciatus curse which they had learned about in Defense class wasn't the only way to torture someone. She read about people being put under the imperius and forced to rape, torture, and murder their own families.

Not all of this was spelled out explicitly in the articles and obituaries — the _Daily Prophet_ wasn't quite that callous. It didn't take long for Hermione to learn how to read between the lines, though, because the reporters had clearly learned to communicate the truth without having to be explicit. The mere fact that such a skill had needed to be learned at all was horrifying in and of itself. Between what was said and what was unsaid, Hermione gained a detailed understanding of the atrocities committed by the bigots and blood purists who joined the Death Eaters.

She wanted to be sick.

Hermione was well aware of violence in the world, even if most of what she knew about was muggle-based. She knew about wars, police actions, murders, and so forth. She had not, however, read or seen anything in the muggle world that came close to the organized, monstrous cruelties which the Death Eaters treated like sport. The closest analogy she could think of was how the Nazis behaved, especially against the Jews, and the thought that such people not only existed in the magical world, but were still active and would gleefully target her, made her want to be sick yet again.

It was a very subdued Hermione Granger who entered the common room just shy of curfew. Rather than sit on one of the couches, she trudged up to bed with Jasmine following close behind, concerned about how her girlfriend was handling this. She continued to follow Hermione right into her bed, and after she silenced and sealed the curtains, she grabbed Hermione's hand and asked, "Are you going to be alright?"

She sighed and in a very soft voice said, "I don't know, Jas. I don't know if I'll ever be alright again. I mean, it was awful reading about all those things, but even worse is the fact that many of those responsible were never punished. Some are even still powerful and influential in government, or even our own school! Not only haven't they given up the beliefs which inspired them to commit all of those atrocities, but they must be passing them along to their kids!" Taking a deep breath, she then added, "Merlin, no wonder you hate Malfoy so much. I'll never be able to look at him the same way again."

Jasmine nodded and said, "Yeah, my reaction was similar to yours. I guess I wasn't very surprised, but it still made me sick and mad. Now you know what my parents faced. What they were fighting against. Now you know what **we** will be facing, sooner or later, and what I'm determined to defend myself from. What you need to decide is what you're going to do to prepare yourself for when they come back."

"I don't know, Jas," Hermione said, clearly struggling with the issues. "It's one thing to use violence in the heat of the moment, and even that bothers me. Well, I guess I should say that it bothers me how good it felt the one time I did that. It's another, though, to deliberately learn how to hurt others and then enter a fight with the intention of causing grievous physical harm to others."

"You're right," Jasmine said. "There is a difference. Just about anyone is capable of the first, and not everyone can or should do the second. However, the former is what happens when you're faced with a fight without warning. It's not something you plan out, it's something that happens to you. The latter is something you do have to make a choice about when you know that a fight is coming."

Hermione nodded. "We can be pretty sure that a fight is coming, and we probably can't prevent it. So we can either stick our heads in the sand, pretend that we're surprised when it arrives, and hope for the best, or we can prepare in advance by learning how to defend ourselves."

"And how to hurt others," Jasmine added. "Shields and stunners won't be enough — you saw that."

Hermione nodded again, though a little more slowly. "There's a price to be paid either way, isn't there?"

"Yeah," Jasmine said. "Sirius was right about that. If we volunteer to pay the price now by learning how to hurt others, maybe there won't be as much of a price to pay later on by us and our loved ones getting injured or killed."

Hermione thought about that price and realized that while her parents may not have intended to raise her to be an idealist, her upbringing had had that effect. She had never learned to regard violence as a good solution to problems. She had never learned to use violence to solve her own problems, not even when harassed and bullied in muggle school. Instead, she had learned that she lived in a civilized society where teachers, police, and other authority figures could be trusted to take care of things.

Now, though, she was living in a society that was turning out to be rather less civilized than she was accustomed to.

Hermione sighed. "Intellectually, I guess you've convinced me — it seems pretty clear that this needs to be done. Emotionally, though... I think I may always struggle with my emotional reaction to causing pain like that, unless I can find some way to wall off my feelings. And if I do manage to... to harden myself like that, will I still like who I become?" She looked very troubled, concluding, "It's something I worry about."

"I know," Jasmine replied gently. "You wouldn't be you if you didn't." She leaned forward, kissed her girlfriend softly, and exited the bed, leaving Hermione with her thoughts.


	27. End of Innocence

**Recommendation** : This chapter's recommended fic is "The Lily Potter Foundation" by theflyinfoote. It's after the final battle, and Harry is wondering what to do with himself. Many of his friends expect him to do… well, the "expected": settle down, marry Ginny, and become an auror. But what if he doesn't want to do what everyone else expects him to do? What if he decides to reach a bit higher? Not everyone reacts well to the unexpected, though he does manage to find support in some unusual places.

* * *

 **Chapter 27 - End of Innocence**

 **Tuesday, January 19, 1995, Morning.**

Jasmine really wanted to respond to the letter from Hermione's parents, but it seemed that every day there was new work being piled on her. It was getting to be too much — and the term was only a couple of weeks old. So she decided to cheat by writing her letter during Professor Binns' lecture in History of Magic. Her problem was that she sat next to Hermione, who might look over and notice that Jasmine's parchment wasn't covered with notes.

 _It's a risk_ , she admitted to herself, _but it's a risk I have to take, otherwise I'll never get a chance to write this._

Arranging the material on her desk carefully so that a casual glance from Hermione wouldn't instantly reveal what she was writing, Jasmine prepared herself by mentally going over what she needed to say. _I don't need to write anything long and detailed… I just need to keep open the lines of communication._

"Dear Mr. and Mrs. Granger,

"Thank you for your letter. I guess I'm not surprised that you would feel some distance from Hermione. Magical schooling is not at all like regular schooling. Magic changes things so much — it even changes how we witches and wizards have to think about the world. It's not something a regular person can easily relate to. I guess the closest comparison is to suddenly have an extra sense like sight or hearing — a sense which the two of you don't have." _There, that should help them understand a bit, even if it's not the whole truth where Hermione is concerned._

Jasmine looked out of the corner of her eye to see if Hermione was watching, but her girlfriend was focused entirely on Binns' lecture, just as she had hoped would be the case.

"Otherwise, I would guess that Hermione here is much like what you were used to seeing before she came to Hogwarts. Most of the time, she is engrossed in learning everything she can about… well, everything. There doesn't seem to be any subject she doesn't want to learn about. I think she'd live in the library if the professors let her." _This shouldn't be any surprise to them. Hopefully, it will put them more at ease to see that some important things haven't changed._

"Hermione is also incredibly giving and generous, always willing to donate her time to help others. I'm only doing as well as I am because of her — both in my classes and in the tournament. She seems to want the best for everyone, though she can get it in her head that she also knows what's best for everyone, and that can make her a bit bossy. She's aware of that, however, and works to be better." _I don't know how much like this she was in regular school, but I doubt it started here. I also doubt that her parents saw this very much, if at all, so this may be news to them._

Jasmine snuck another look over at Hermione and saw that she was still focused on the lecture.

"I'm not sure what else to say. I mean, to me she's just Hermione. I would still expect you to know her better than I do, even if she doesn't live at home as much anymore. You were there helping when the person she is now was being formed. All I can say is that you did a great job. But I guess if you have specific questions, I can try to answer them." _There, that's good enough. I just need to sign it and send it off with Hedwig._

After they packed up their things at the end of the lecture and were walking out the door, Hermione said, "Jas, I know you weren't taking notes on the lecture."

Jasmine almost froze at hearing those words, but somehow she managed to keep a straight face and continue walking.

"I couldn't see what it was you were writing," Hermione continued, "but it clearly had nothing to do with the Goblin Rebellion of 1276 under Grimjaw the Grumpy and his failed attempts to get a library card at Merton College in Oxford. I didn't say anything this time, but it had better be pretty important for you to ignore a lecture."

Jasmine almost audibly sighed in relief. "Oh, it was important, Hermione."

Turning to her auburn-haired girlfriend, she asked skeptically, "Really? Are you sure about that?"

"Trust me," she answered, confidence filling her voice. "There isn't much that's more important. We just spend so much time studying and practicing these days that I'm having trouble finding time to do anything else."

Hermione frowned, then said, "I suppose you're right. We have been getting incredibly busy. I'm sorry that I haven't asked how that's affected you." Smiling again, she continued, "We'll try to schedule things a bit better so we still have some free time, OK?"

"That would be great, Hermione," Jasmine answered, happy that she had dodged that spell.

* * *

 **Thursday, January 21, 1995, Afternoon.**

Fleur Delacour had once again received a letter from her family that morning, and once again she was disappointed. Like last time, her family didn't include any explanation about what they thought the connection was between the two English witches or why they thought it was so important. _At least this time they admit that they are holding back information_ , she thought to herself, _though I wonder why they won't tell me. I could understand if they simply didn't want the information given to the two involved, but am_ _ **I**_ _not trustworthy enough?_

According to her mother, Apolline, and her grandmother, Sybine, they wanted to be there in person to verify their suspicions. For now, though, they insisted that the time was not right for this information to be passed around (assuming it even proved to be true).

To say that Fleur was unhappy about this would be an understatement. It wasn't just that she wanted to know for her own sake, but she was looking forward to helping the two English witches by providing them with information that might be useful for them. Not only would it potentially get her access to whatever they knew but were keeping secret, but it would also help her gain their trust. As a veela she'd had trouble making friends with the witches at Beauxbatons, but for some reason she had a feeling that she might have more luck with Jasmine and Hermione.

The one truly interesting part of the letter was the suggestion that she invite Hermione and Jasmine to an Imbolc celebration that would be held in the Beauxbatons carriage at the end of the month. Fleur hadn't even thought that Imbolc was going to be celebrated here, which had been a great disappointment to her, and she wondered if this was a recent change. _In fact_ , she realized, _I wonder if this is something Maman and Grandmere have engineered specifically for the sake of Hermione and Jasmine? But why would they wish to do that?_

 _I'll just have to wait to find out, I guess_ , she concluded. _I do hope they accept… I think I'd enjoy celebrating Imbolc with them._

* * *

 **Saturday, January 23, 1995, Morning.**

As Jasmine and Hermione were leaving breakfast, Fleur Delacour bumped into Hermione, slipping a note into her pocket. After the two Gryffindors were alone, they read the note and learned that Fleur wanted to meet in an hour in the "usual" room, so they made their way to the seventh floor to get some work done while they awaited the French champion.

"Do you think she has the information from her family?" Jasmine asked.

"That has to be it," Hermione answered. "I can't imagine what else she might want to meet with us about."

Once Fleur had arrived, Hermione got right to the point. "So, why did you need to meet with us? Did you hear something from your family?"

"Sorry, non," Fleur answered, "I don't 'ave the information you requested, but I do 'ave something else. Zere will be an Imbolc celebration at ze end of ze month, and you two are invited."

"How late does it run?" Hermione asked. "We'll need permission if it goes past curfew. Where will it be? How..."

"But first," Jasmine interrupted, "what is Imbolc, exactly?"

"It will be in ze Beauxbatons carriage and will run late, but you'll need to sneak out and sneak back in. Zere's no way you would be given permission for zis. Imbolc is an important magical festival of Celtic origins which celebrates purification, birth, and ze coming of spring. It eez still celebrated by zose who honor ze old ways, which unfortunately eez not very common in Britain today. At least, not publicly."

"That seems true," Hermione interjected. "I've never heard of any Imbolc celebrations around here."

"If zere are," Fleur continued, "zey are held in secret, like ours will be. It 'as been become policy of your English Ministry to refer to ze old ways as 'superstitious' and filled with 'dark magic.' Zis eez because ze celebrations not only 'onor ancient deities, but traditionally include many references to sex, which seems to make some nervous. Ze Irish goddess Brigid is ze main deity associated with it, but other deities of love, sex, and fertility are also 'onored. Ze ritual we will celebrate 'ere will only be 'onoring goddesses because it will be all-female and will adhere to veela traditions. All of zat would receive extreme disapproval from ze traditionalists among your English wizards... even zose who zemselves follow ze old ways in private probably would not be 'appy.."

Hermione found it all very fascinating and started to ask more, not noticing that Jasmine had become a bit uncomfortable. "How long will it take?" Hermione asked, "What will happen? Will we have to do anything? Should we bring anything?"

Fleur held up her hands in surrender. "I can't answer all zose questions yet, at least not easily. You shouldn't 'ave to bring anything, and I don't zink you'll be asked to do anything. Zere are many variations in 'ow ze ritual celebration is done — zere aren't a lot of strict rules. 'Opefully I or someone else will be able to explain ze details. You will be our guests, so rest assured, you will be made to feel welcome and comfortable."

"That sounds great — we'd love to come, wouldn't we?" Hermione said enthusiastically, turning to her girlfriend. Jasmine still looked a little unsure but nodded her head in agreement.

"Bien," Fleur responded. "I zink you will enjoy yourselves, especially since you 'ave not done zis sort of zing before. When ze time draws closer, I will tell you more about when and where."

As she started to get up to leave, Jasmine stopped her and said, "I have one question, uh, though it might be a bit personal." Fleur sat back down, a look of curiosity on her face. "Hermione and I were talking about it the other day, and something didn't make sense to me. If you don't want to answer, if it's too personal, that's fine, but..."

Hermione rolled her eyes and nudged her fellow Gryffindor with her elbow. "Just spit it out, Jas."

"Alright, alright," Jasmine said. "During our meeting the other day, none of the boys were affected by your allure, which was a surprise, at least in Neville's case. But I've seen your allure affect others since you arrived at Hogwarts. So... what's going on with that?"

Fleur smiled and responded, "Zat is a fair question. Ze ability to control one's allure varies greatly — some are good at it and others are not. In my family, we are trained from a very young age to control it, but since coming here I 'ave 'ad trouble on occasion. When we first arrived I was surprised by how very cold it was, and zat made it 'arder for me. At ze Yule Ball, I was very nervous and 'ad trouble zen as well. And, to be 'onest, Roger was annoying me. I found it easier to be around 'im when 'e was slightly dazed."

"So basically, others shouldn't notice you're allure?" Hermione asked.

"In general, non," Fleur answered. "More powerful wizards may notice its presence, but not to ze point of being affected by it. Zey are just more sensitive to such zings."

After that Fleur left, and the two Gryffindor witches had yet another interesting mystery about themselves to discuss.

* * *

 **Saturday, January 23, 1995, Afternoon.**

When Hermione and Jasmine again entered the Transfiguration classroom to meet with Professor McGonagall for their training session, the happy looks on their faces made it clear that they were pleased that Professor Flitwick would be joining them like he had the previous weekend.

"We're glad to see you here, Professor Flitwick," Jasmine started. After a quick glance at Hermione, she went on, "After talking last night, the two of us decided that it would be helpful to let you in on the secret we have. We would like you to take the oath, though I assume Professor McGonagall has let you know that it's not as dangerous as magical oaths tend to be. We hope that when you know our full situation, you'll be able to help with whatever is happening to us."

"Thank you for being willing to trust me and to seek my help, Miss Granger, Miss Potter," Professor Flitwick responded. He had been given the notes on the problems surrounding Headmaster Dumbledore — troublesome decisions, suspicious events, and more. All of that created a real cause for concern, and Flitwick was more than willing to help these two, even if it meant keeping secrets from his employer.

After saying the same oath originally created by McGonagall, and getting a surprise at the strong magical reaction when the two young witches accepted it, Flitwick was told the truth about their relationship, including a quick summary of the events of the last six weeks. All three witches tensed slightly while waiting for his reaction — even McGonagall, who knew him best.

"Well," he said, staring off in the distance. "This is quite a shock. And yet... at the same time, it's not."

"How so?" Jasmine asked. Had they been that obvious? Who else might know?

Her worry must have shown on her face, because he answered, "Never fear, my dear, I hadn't seen any obvious signs that the two of you were involved in some sort of romantic relationship. What I meant was that so many things I'd observed about you two recently now make more sense if a romantic relationship is also involved..."

"Filius..." McGonagall interrupted, a warning in her voice.

"Oh, don't worry, Minerva," he said, "I know better than to try to say the wrong thing, assuming I even could. But you have to admit, with a romantic relationship going on, so many things fall into place. That's actually helpful, I think, because so long as no one suspects that a romance is going on, they shouldn't have any idea what's really happening. If someone does realize that these two are in a relationship, they might start to figure out more as well."

McGonagall nodded in agreement. "That's a good point," she said, "I hadn't thought of that."

Hermione chose this moment to huff in annoyance. "So you both know more than you're telling us. A lot more, it seems!"

"Sorry, my dear," Flitwick said apologetically. "There are some things you simply have to find out for yourself. It's not bad, I can assure you of that."

"Oh, that reminds me," Hermione said, "Jasmine and I are wearing rings she got from the Potter vault. Silverflare, the master metalsmith who reforged the wizard's ring into a second witch's ring, wrote that they could be willed invisible; and that works, but our account manager at Gringotts seemed to be able to see mine. Do you know why? Is it because he's a goblin?"

"Hold on, back up a minute," Flitwick said, holding up his hands. "Rings?"

"Yes," Jasmine said, scrunching up her face and willing her ring to appear. "They were a set, but one was a wizard's ring, and the goblins reforged it so I'd have two identical witch's rings."

"Oh, my," Flitwick said in wonderment as he stared closely, first at Jasmine's ring and then at both rings side-by-side when Hermione willed hers to become visible as well.

"You said that these rings are enchanted, yes?" Flitwick asked.

"Yes, they are. The goblin master metalsmith said he restored the enchantments when he reforged the one ring, so that's how we learned what they could do," Hermione said.

"Can you make them invisible again?" Flitwick asked next. Both girls complied, then he looked closely at their hands and nodded. "Yes, your speculation was correct, Miss Granger. The goblins can see past the goblin invisibility enchantment that was placed on your rings. I'm only part goblin, so I can't see them very well — I have to focus closely to see just the outlines of rings. That's why I never noticed them before."

"Moving on," McGonagall, said, trying to take the conversation away from that sensitive topic, "Now that Filius knows, he may be able to give some thought to the best ways to help you control your magical strength."

"Oh, yes," he interjected. "Yes, indeed! This all makes much more sense now. I'll have to do some digging, and I'm not sure if there is anything written about this particular situation, but I think I might be able to put together a program of exercises that will fit the two of you. Have you tried doing anything else besides the accuracy practice you started this past week?"

Jasmine and Hermione reminded him of the wandless and silent casting exercises they were trying to do every night. "Yes, that's perfect — that's just the sort of thing you should be doing, working **together** as much as possible. The accuracy exercises you started will also help, but I'm sure that any exercises where you're required to work together will produce the best results in your situation. I know your time is limited, but I'll do some research on what other kinds of joint magical exercises might be possible for you."

"We really need to move on to today's practice session if we want to get it done at all," McGonagall pointed out.

Jasmine pulled out a piece of parchment and said, "I've written down four spells that I'd like to try. First is the smaller explosive charm, _Bombarda_ , the larger explosive curse, _Expulso_ , the bone breaking curse, _Ossus Fragmen_ , and finally the siege engine spell, _Corace Corruo_."

McGonagall and Flitwick looked at each other with surprised expressions before the Charms professor said, "Those are some strong spells, but I think you can probably handle them. The siege engine spell might be problematic, though. Where did you manage to find it, anyway?"

Looking more than a bit sheepish, Hermione answered, "I first saw a reference to it in a history text and thought it looked interesting. I couldn't find a complete description of the actual spell anywhere, but I kept finding more references to it in other history texts. After a while, I was able to piece the specifics together from all the different references I found. I only wish I could have found a book that explained the spell in more detail."

McGonagall rolled her eyes. "Of course we don't have any books which teach that spell, not even in the library's restricted section. We live and work in a castle, so there's no way we'd want students learning a spell designed to knock down castle walls, however unlikely it is that any of them would be able to cast it."

Flitwick smiled and continued, "We just never expected anyone to be able to piece that spell together in the way you did, Miss Granger. But where did you intend to practice it? We can ask if the Room of Requirement can provide a space to cast such a high-level spell, but it wouldn't surprise me if it can't. That's not exactly an 'indoor' spell, you know."

Jasmine groaned at having forgotten that small detail. "Can we practice it somewhere outside, like maybe near the Quidditch pitch?" Jasmine asked.

"Perhaps," Minerva answered, "But we wouldn't be able to keep it from the headmaster and who knows how many other people if we did."

Jasmine shook her head at that. Neither she nor Hermione wanted their training to be known by too many people.

After a moment's thought, Filius offered, "I might be able to find a place we can use. Getting there may be tricky, but doable. I would have to go with you, but Minerva could stay here to cover for us if anyone asks. However, it can't be today — there isn't enough time to set it up. It will have to wait until next Saturday."

"OK," responded Jasmine, "Can we replace the siege engine spell with _Confringo_ for today?"

"Yes, the explosive blasting curse should work nicely," Filius said with an eager look on his face.

* * *

The second session of spellcasting practice started very much like the first. It came as no surprise at this point that the relative strength of the young witches' spells was greater than average. With the explosive blasting curse, however, the fiery component caused damage that went well beyond the usual impact of the spell. From the wands of most witches and wizards, a _Confringo_ was a highly damaging and sometimes fatal spell against a single target. From the wands of these two young witches, a _Confringo_ became an incredibly destructive spell that would severely injure or kill multiple targets if they were bunched together closely enough.

Hermione likened it to using a hand grenade, though without the shrapnel. Only Jasmine could tell how much her own analogy disturbed her, and that she wasn't pleased that she could cause so much harm with a single, general purpose spell.

The somewhat grey spell _Ossus Fragmen_ , which Hermione had found while searching for spells that Jasmine could use against a dragon, proved to be the most difficult for them to cast. Professor Flitwick introduced the curse with a bit of a refresher on how spells worked. "General purpose spells like _Reducto_ , _Bombarda_ , _Confringo_ , and _Expulso_ can cause a wide variety of damage, including injuries like broken bones. The _Ossus Fragmen_ curse, in contrast, targets **only** bones and was created specifically to break bones. It won't damage clothing, wands, walls, etc. As you know, magic is about intent, so rather than intending general, non-specific harm to whoever or whatever is hit, you must intend very specific harm: broken bones."

When the two witches nodded, Flitwick continued, "You indicate that you understand, but I'm not sure you do. Still, give it a try — let's see how you manage." McGonagall conjured two pigs and levitated them down to where the training dummies were already positioned. Jasmine and Hermione looked at them for a moment in distaste, then both proceeded to cast the _Ossus Fragmen_ curse. Nothing happened.

"I expected as much," Flitwick assured them, "but I thought it was important to demonstrate that this isn't a spell you can simply overpower and get what you want from it — intent is key, and proper visualization is critical.

"In order to intend to break a bone, you must not only know what the bone looks like, but you must also have a firm idea of what it looks like broken. In that, it's similar to transfiguration because you must be able to visualize the end result at the very least, though it's better if you can also visualize the process of it breaking. It also helps, I'm sorry to say, if you have experienced broken bones — especially whatever bones you are aiming for."

At this, both witches' eyes widened, now truly starting to comprehend what would be required of them to cast this curse successfully. McGonagall conjured another pig, then with a wave of her wand, the pig was bloodlessly sliced in half. The two halves were levitated and separated to give everyone a clear view of the pig's insides, including its bones. Both of the two younger witches looked a little green at the sight.

"I don't want to see any squeamishness from you two," McGonagall said sternly. "If you can't stand to look at this, then you can't cast spells like you've asked us to help you with." Her voice softened a bit as she added, "I know this isn't pleasant, but this is a conjured animal, not a real one. It is not alive and it cannot feel pain. If you can't bear to cause harm to a conjured thing such as this, you will never be able to cause harm to a wizard or witch — not even one trying to kill you."

At that admonition, Jasmine and Hermione straightened up a bit and forced themselves to deal with the situation.

"Now take a good look at the pig's major bones," Flitwick said, pointing his wand at the conjured animal. "It's usually best to target the largest, strongest bones with a curse like _Ossus Fragmen_. Watch as I do it." He then proceeded to silently cast the curse, targeting very precise locations on the pig and breaking a different bone each time. "Look closely at the broken bones. Remember the sounds they made when they snapped. This is what you must know and understand before you can muster the proper intent to cast this curse."

And the young Gryffindor witches did indeed look, however unpleasant the sight was. Jasmine had seen Hermione flinch repeatedly at the sound of the bones breaking, but then she watched as her girlfriend shook herself, set her shoulders, and gripped her wand more firmly, a determined look on her pale face.

Flitwick continued, "The more vivid the concepts of breaking and broken bones are in your mind, the more successful your casting will be. Yes, I know that it isn't pleasant, but neither is the act of breaking someone's bone, no matter what means you use to do it."

"If it helps," McGonagall said, "try to keep in mind that in the magical world, broken bones are rarely as serious of an injury as they are in the muggle world. I believe that a broken arm or leg requires some weeks to heal with muggle methods?" Seeing their nods of confirmation, she continued, "Well, even an average witch or wizard can heal a simple break rather quickly, leaving at most a few days of weakness. A skilled healer can do it faster and with fewer complications."

Jasmine and Hermione cast each other a grim look before trying again, this time getting it right after only a few attempts. Instead of breaking just one bone each per cast spell, however, their spells seemed to snap multiple bones every time. It was fortunate that McGonagall's pigs had not been conjured with the ability to feel or express any pain, but that would change in future sessions — it was something the girls would have to get used to as well if they wanted to be able to cast such spells. In a real fight, it could be fatal if they froze up as soon as they heard someone cry out in pain after being hit by one of their curses.

Neither professor was very pleased about two young witches learning such magic, but neither could deny that both of them — and Jasmine in particular — kept getting involved in situations where they might need such spells to defend themselves. That things were likely to only get worse almost went without saying, so Professors McGonagall and Flitwick continued to train them, relying on their inherent good characters to keep them from abusing the spells despite how much provocation they received from certain quarters.

* * *

 **Saturday, January 23, 1995, Evening.**

"Are you certain, Phineas?" Dumbledore asked, curiosity evident on his face.

"Definitely," the portrait of Phineas Nigellus Black replied. "Several paintings have reported Potter meeting or being in the vicinity of that French creature."

Albus Dumbledore frowned at the portrait's use of the label "creature" but didn't bother correcting it. Magical portraits were stuck with whatever opinions were held by the original person before they died. That was the point, after all: to capture and preserve the basic personality, character, and attitudes of a wizard or witch. Even if Phineas' portrait could change, though, Dumbledore knew that the former headmaster was far too set in his ways, so he wasn't going to waste his breath arguing.

"Thank you, Phineas. Please tell the paintings and portraits to keep an eye out for similar encounters," Dumbledore said, ending their conversation. He pondered this development, trying to understand what it meant. There were no rules against the champions fraternizing and becoming friends, though it was unusual. They didn't start out as friends and had little in common, so the pressures of competition should have kept them separated. What had happened?

Perhaps just as important was what this might mean for the future. _If they are forming any sort of friendship, should that be encouraged or discouraged?_ he asked himself. _On the one hand, many traditionalists in Britain wouldn't approve of the Girl Who Lived being too friendly with a French witch, never mind a veela. That includes more than a few light-sided families, sadly. On the other hand, if Miss Delacour has valuable connections in the French magical community, those might prove beneficial if the coming conflict with Tom starts to go badly._

Popping a sherbet lemon into his mouth and leaning back in his chair, he considered that the outcome was too uncertain to interfere. At least, not yet. It would probably come down to just how close they became and how publicized that relationship might become. _If I can at least keep it out of the papers, then if they become good friends, Miss Potter will have advantageous connections in France in the future — either for use during the war, or for use afterwards when she becomes an important political and social figure._

Satisfied with that, the headmaster leaned forward again and started digging into the pile of parchment he needed to read and sign. He loved being part of the school, but he hated all the parchment work that came with his position. Even after foisting much of it off on Minerva, the amount he had to contend with never seemed to end.

* * *

Hermione lay in her bed, unable to sleep. She couldn't stop thinking about the spells she had learned that day and how much harm she not only _could_ cause another person, but would have to _intend_ to cause in order for the spells to work. Jasmine had finally convinced her that more violent spells would be needed against Death Eaters, which meant that there was no choice but to learn how to cast them.

Knowing that intellectually, though, wasn't the same as being comfortable with it.

Until recently, she never would have imagined she'd be deliberately learning to hurt people like this. That didn't mean she couldn't do it, however. On the contrary, she knew she could. If hitting Malfoy in third year hadn't been enough of a clue, her outstanding success today with a spell like _Ossus Fragmen_ certainly made it clear.

 _Am I supposed to be happy about that?_ a small, stubborn voice inside her asked glumly.

She punched her pillow in frustration at such thoughts. _This is_ _ **necessary**_ _,_ she told herself sternly. _The fact of the matter is,_ _I live in a society that's controlled, directly or indirectly, by sociopathic, bigoted blood purists and their paid creatures. A society to which Voldemort will return, sooner or later, and then conditions will go back to what they were in the 1970s. I will be one of the primary targets of those bigots — because I'm a muggleborn, because I'm smart, and because I'm such close friends with the Girl Who Lived._

She thought grimly, _I know all of this is true, so my feelings are simply going to have to get with the program._

Just then, a horrid thought occurred to her: _What if they came for me, away from the school and all its protections, and I was the only thing standing between the Death Eaters and my parents?_ And then another thought: _...Can I use that idea? Can I borrow some of the fear and anger I'd feel in a real situation to get me through the need to cold-bloodedly learn these spells?_ _And is that even a healthy thing to do?_

In the quiet darkness of her dormitory, no easy answers magically came to her, but she did think she felt the last vestiges of her childhood slipping away.


	28. Love and Sincerity

**Recommendation:** This chapter's recommended fic is "Lunch at Maxine's" by apAiden. Hermione's mother has figured out that her daughter is in love with Harry… long before Hermione figures it out. So she takes Hermione out to lunch in order to get her to admit the truth.

* * *

 **Chapter 28 - Love and Sincerity**

 **Sunday, January 24, 1995, Afternoon.**

When Jasmine and Hermione sat down with Professor McGonagall, their afternoon tea started out with bad news. "Back when we first started meeting for tea, you brought up the question of the rules of the Triwizard Tournament. You said that you had asked the headmaster for a copy and that he hadn't given you one yet. Is that still true?"

"Yes," Jasmine answered. "We haven't asked again because we've been waiting to see if you'd be able to come up with anything."

Minerva nodded as she took a sip of tea. "I thought that might be the case. Unfortunately, I haven't had any luck. I've searched all through the special library room reserved for professors and staff, but there's no sign that a copy of the tournament rules was ever there. I even wrote to a friend who works at the ministry to see if she could find something on file, and she finally got back to me yesterday, saying that she's been unable to locate a copy."

"That's... really suspicious," Hermione said. "Why would the Headmaster go to such lengths to remove every copy? Unless there's something hugely significant in them that he's trying to hide?"

"What about the other champions?" Jasmine suddenly asked. "Shouldn't they have access to their own school's copies?"

"Of course!" Hermione said, brightening. "We can ask Viktor and Fleur — surely they must be able to get them, if they haven't already."

"Do you feel that you know them well enough to make such a request," Minerva asked with some skepticism.

"Absolutely, we've gotten quite close to them recently," Jasmine assured her. "In fact, we all…" She stopped there, and gave Hermione a questioning look. Her girlfriend looked thoughtful for a moment, then nodded.

"Well," Jasmine continued, "all of us champions are very concerned about the second task. Specifically, we're concerned about what, or perhaps I should say who, will be taken from us." Her clear emphasis on the "who" was met with a very slightly raised eyebrow from Minerva, the only reaction she dared give. "None of us are happy about even the possibility of anyone else being put in danger, so we've decided to act collectively to protect anyone who seems to be a likely candidate to become a hostage."

Minerva didn't know what to say to that. Well, strictly speaking she probably couldn't say anything — the magic of the tournament prevented staff from helping their champions or interfering in the running of the tournament generally. However, she really wanted to know more and she also wanted to praise her students for taking such initiative in protecting innocent bystanders.

"I'm happy to hear that," she finally said, then added, "I mean, I'm happy to hear that you and the other champions are close enough that you make ask them about the rules, obviously." With a smile, she tried to communicate the fact that she was happy about far more than that, but no more could be said.

"Which reminds me," Jasmine said, "when we met recently with the other champions, Viktor brought up an issue that we need some advice on. As part of the discussion I ended up telling them about the basilisk and what happened in the Chamber of Secrets. Viktor told me that in most countries, anyone who kills a creature like that has the right to claim the corpse — even if the corpse is on private property like Hogwarts. He believes that there could be a lot of gold, potion ingredients, and magical items that I can get from that corpse."

Minerva paused in mid-sip, suddenly wondering herself why she'd never thought about this. "Now that you mention it, I think Mr. Krum might be right. I've never had to study the laws on the subject, but I think British laws are consistent with those of other nations when it comes to that sort of thing."

"I don't suppose you have any idea how much it would be worth, do you?" Hermione asked.

"Not really, no," Minerva answered. "It's not my field of expertise. But basilisks are very rare, so just about everything in them should be highly prized. It all comes down to how big it is and what sort of state it's in. It has been sitting down there for quite some time now. Do you remember the size, Miss Potter?"

"Well, to be honest I was busy running for my life most of the time," Jasmine replied uncomfortably, "and I was also a bit smaller back then. But my best guess is around 20 to 30 meters."

Minerva's mouth went dry. "Are you... are you certain?"

"As certain as I can be," Jasmine said. "The head seemed like it was almost as big as I was, and its mouth looked like it could have taken me in one bite, maybe two." Jasmine shuddered a bit, "For months afterwards, I had nightmares about exactly that happening."

Hermione reached out to comfort her friend while Minerva's hands trembled so much that she had to put her teacup down on the table before continuing. "My word, Miss Potter, I had no idea that it was so large. I assumed... well, something much smaller, though obviously still quite dangerous." Taking a deep breath to collect herself, she went on, "I wouldn't want to even guess at the value of such a creature. I doubt that a basilisk anywhere close to that size has been killed in many centuries."

"What would we have to do in order for Jasmine to collect on it?" Hermione asked.

"I suppose that if you did all the work yourself — and by work I mean taking apart the corpse and removing the pieces — then you could sell everything yourself to various stores and potions masters. That would be a lot of work, though, and you'd have to know what you were doing in order to do it properly. Let me ask around to see who can be trusted to take care of valuable corpses or dangerous creatures like that. I am acquainted with a person who could probably do it, but he's a muggle, and I don't know how easy it will be to get in contact with him, much less whether we could even get him into the castle."

"A muggle? Really?" Hermione asked in surprise.

"He's quite an unusual young man," Minerva replied with a private smile. "I'll let you know what I find out."

"Thank you," Jasmine said. "I had no idea that I might have any right to the corpse, or even that it might have value."

Minerva sighed and said, "That's something that the Headmaster probably should have told you, so it's one more thing we can add to the list." She sipped her tea before continuing, "I have a question for the two of you. How do you feel now after yesterday's practice session? You were using far more serious spells this time."

"I'm still feeling confident," Jasmine said, "though it's true those spells were hard to use. The _Ossus Fragmen_ curse in particular was difficult."

"I have a question about that," Hermione cut in. "Why is _Ossus Fragmen_ considered grey if it can only break bones while other curses that aren't grey can cause much greater injuries. I mean… I can hurt someone a lot more with a _Confringo_ , but that isn't grey."

"That's a very good question, Miss Granger," Minerva responded, "and the answer cuts to the very heart of how and why spells are separated into dark and light. You remember Professor Flitwick's explanation of how you must frame your intent in order to properly cast that curse?" When both witches nodded, she continued, "Well, consider the fact that when you intend to break bones, you must necessarily envision a very specific type of injury and pain for a person to experience. Other spells only require a vague, generalized intent, and thus the harm they can cause is usually more limited or diffuse. Even if they happen to do greater harm, though, it isn't due to any specific intent on your part."

"So, it's like the unforgivables," Jasmine suggested. "In order to properly cast them, you have to want death, torture, or domination, and that's why they are dark: because wanting those things badly enough to cast those spells successfully is itself extremely dark. And being able to accurately visualize and desire that a person's bones be broken is darker than simply wanting a vague, general sort of harm?"

"Exactly," Minerva said. "I can't say that I approved of Alastor being allowed to teach you about the unforgivables in the manner he did, but I'm glad to see that you came away with the right lessons. The reason why the _Ossus Fragmen_ curse is merely a little grey rather than truly dark is because broken bones don't usually qualify as very serious harm, as we discussed."

"I guess that makes sense," Hermione said thoughtfully. "Spells become darker if the only way they can cause someone harm is for you to consciously mean that harm to happen. I must admit that that I'm struggling with such spells. I can't deny that they may be useful or even necessary, but the need to intend and visualize harm like that is hard for me. And becoming the sort of person who can do such things easily is troubling."

"I quite understand, Miss Granger," Minerva said sympathetically. "There is a real difference between casting a spell which **can** cause harm as an effect of what it does regardless of your intent and casting a spell which causes harm because that is its **sole purpose** — because that is all it does or can do. Being able to visualize and intend such harm to another person, even minor harm, will change you. It won't make you evil, but it does make you a different sort of person. The fact that you were uncomfortable with visualizing for the bone breaking curse, even though it's still a grey spell, does you credit, Miss Granger."

"I suppose that helps explain why dark wizards and witches end up so evil," Jasmine offered. "In order to use the darker curses, they have to spend a lot of time thinking hard about and really wanting to cause all sorts of nasty harm to other people?"

"That's correct, Miss Potter," Minerva responded as she poured everyone some more tea. "Anyone who spends enough time wanting to cause entrails to be expelled, organs to rot or explode, blood to boil, and similar afflictions will not end up being a good person. On top of that, many of the curses require being able to desire not just the obvious physical effects, but also the pain and terror experienced by the victim."

Jasmine and Hermione shivered a little as they pondered that. "Even if someone casts such curses in the legitimate defense of another, thinking about and wanting those results ends up damaging a person's mind and morality in the long run in a way that thinking about and wanting broken bones, bruises, or cuts never will."

Both of the younger witches started feeling very uncomfortable as they pondered that. "I'm not even sure how I'd go about visualizing such things," Jasmine said, after thinking about it.

"Well, that's another problem," Minerva responded. "Most people can't — not off the top of their heads — which is why learning such spells usually requires watching a master cast it over and over on some victim. Sometimes the target may be an animal or even a conjured animal, but usually the victim is a human, since that produces the best models for visualization. And then of course there is practicing the spells, something that is also usually done with human targets. In short, learning how to cast these spells will typically require first being an accessory to serious crimes, then committing those crimes yourself as you perfect your technique."

Now the young witches were looking positively green as they contemplated just how twisted a person had to become in order to learn how to be proficient with truly dark spells. Hermione, though, also felt a tiny bit better now that she understood that while some of these greyer spells would change her, they wouldn't necessarily damager her morality or character.

"I know it's getting late," Hermione said after a pause, "but I did have one more thing to ask about. What do you know about Imbolc?"

Minerva sat back in her chair upon hearing that question. "Imbolc? Well, that's not a topic I ever expected us to talk about. Our little village used to have Imbolc celebrations when I was very young, but they stopped not long before I reached my teens. Probably because of Ministry disapproval. I'm pretty sure we were among the last places to stop them, and I haven't really thought about our Imbolc celebrations in many, many years."

Leaning forward to pick up her tea again, she continued, "Imbolc comes from the Irish "I mbolg," which means roughly 'in the belly' and refers to how around this time of year the ewes are usually heavy with lambs and milk. It was originally an Irish Celtic festival that ended up spreading through magical societies across most of northern Europe in one form or another, though most kept its association with Brigid, the Irish goddess of fertility and spring."

After thinking about it for a moment, she went on, "It's rare to find the holiday being celebrated in Britain anymore, at least openly I guess, because Ministry policy is to treat most of the 'old ways' as dark, especially festivals like this that are associated in any way with sex. As far as I know, none of the old ways are explicitly condemned or illegal, but they have been driven underground — despite the fact that they are about life and magic, not about causing harm to others."

"So there's nothing left? Publicly, I mean?" Hermione asked. "Have all of the old traditions and practices been forced underground?"

"For the most part," Minerva answered. "There are a few public remnants of such rituals, though you'd be hard-pressed to find anyone in a position of authority who'd admit to that. Ironically, many of those remnants are part of official Ministry ceremonies, like the installation of a new Minister or the opening of new sessions of the Wizengamot." Here she paused for a moment to consider while taking a sip of tea. "Come to think of it, I believe that what's left is all very much 'masculine' in its character, symbols, etc. The old rituals included both male and female roles, usually representing a god and a goddess, but what little remains in public has had the feminine aspects stripped away."

"Can we confide in you about something — something not covered by your earlier oath?" Hermione asked.

"Of course you can," Minerva said. "Even if not covered by the oath, I will keep your confidences... provided of course that it's not about something that's an imminent danger to yourselves or others in the school."

"Well," Jasmine said, still a bit hesitant, "we were invited to an Imbolc celebration by Fleur Delacour."

"Yes, she also said that it would be a female-only celebration that followed veela customs," Hermione added. "Do you know anything about that?"

Minerva raised her eyebrows in surprise, then answered, "As I said, such rituals typically involve both male and female roles engaged in at least a metaphorical representation of a sexual union. This is because sexual unions are considered sacred on such dates. It's the root of all life and an important connection to magic and life around us. Because of how wizards have come to dominate magical society, though, some witches developed female-only versions of the rituals that focus on the feminine aspects of nature, life, and magic. Since veela are all female, I guess I wouldn't expect them to do anything else."

Hermione nodded, making a mental note to study the Pureheart book to see what information it contained.

"Do you plan on going?" Minerva asked. "I imagine that it's quite an honor to be invited. I don't think they invite outsiders to any of their rituals or celebrations very often — especially British outsiders, considering how the British Ministry and public treat veela."

"We did say yes," Jasmine answered, squirming a bit at what she had just learned and now wondering what she had gotten herself into. "Though we'll need to arrange a way to get in and out of the castle. We can avoid being seen, but getting around the locked front doors might be tricky."

Minerva raised an eyebrow. "I don't see how that should be a problem for you of all people, Miss Potter. I'm sure you'll find a way."

* * *

 **Sunday, January 24, 1995, Night.**

Hermione discovered that D. Tempest Pureheart had quite a bit to say about important magical holidays, including Imbolc. Apparently, there were magical rituals in which it was common for sex to occur — even public sex! — but Imbolc wasn't one of them. It was, however, common afterwards: according to Pureheart, the ritual created a buildup of magical energy, some of which lingered on in the participants after the ritual was over, and with predictable effects.

Since the ritual and celebration honored sexual activity, even if indirectly, the energy and images tended to encourage sexual activity in participants. _I guess you can't celebrate birth, spring, and milk production while ignoring the sexual activity that led up to all that_ , Hermione mused.

As Pureheart described it, this occurred whether the celebration was mixed gender, as was traditional, or same gender, like Pureheart herself participated in. Fertility and conception may have been part of the focus of Imbolc, but they weren't important for any ensuing sexual activity. What mattered was love and intimacy, as well as remembering how such activity connected wizards and witches to the rest of magic.

 _It's curious that a ritual that was once heterosexual could be modified to involve only witches_ , Hermione thought, _and yet they seem to produce the same magical effects as those that follow the traditional format in using both masculine and feminine roles_.

Suddenly, Hermione had an epiphany: _The gender of those involved doesn't matter: all that matters is the sincerity and love of those participating! Sincerity and love… that's very similar to intent and will, the key elements of all magic, right? And maybe that's true for couples outside rituals like this, too!_

Reading on, she saw that sexual activity in the wake of Imbolc celebrations was welcomed and even encouraged because followers of the old ways believed that it would be blessed by the goddesses being honored during the ritual.

This got Hermione to thinking about her relationship with Jasmine and whether Imbolc would be an auspicious time to take things to a new level. _I'm not ready to go all the way, or whatever counts as all the way when two witches are involved_ , Hermione thought, _but I think I'd like to move a bit further in what we do physically. If we're both already affected by the magical energy of the ritual, then that date would be a good time. And if there is any truth to the belief that such activity is somehow "blessed" on that date, even better!_

Hermione's mind was a whirlwind of thoughts about what "going further" might mean, what her first time might be like, whether she should wear anything special, and so forth. She also considered the fact that she still hadn't figured out how to deal with having a romantic, physical relationship with a friend, and resolved to finally write to her parents. That was something she had hoped to avoid, but in the absence of any other source for advice, she realized she'd have to bite the bullet and ask them for help.

* * *

 **Tuesday, January 26, 1995, Afternoon.**

That week in Defense Against the Dark Arts, Professor Moody instructed the class on the use of the Jelly Legs Jinx, a spell meant to cause an opponent to go weak and wobbly in the legs. While everyone was incanting _Locomotor Wibbly_ at their partners and laughing at the results, Jasmine and Hermione were thinking about how weak that spell was when compared to the more powerful curses and hexes which they had been practicing lately.

Making an opponent weak and wobbly wouldn't do a lot to stop them, and Jasmine started to wonder why anyone would bother with that when they could put an opponent down more decisively with a _Reducto_. When she mentioned it quietly to Hermione, she was reminded that they may not want to put an opponent down "decisively" all the time. More powerful spells came with a risk of serious injury, Hermione pointed out, and not every opponent was necessarily out to kill them.

* * *

Professor Moody — or more accurately, the man impersonating Professor Moody — kept at least one eye on the two girls throughout the entire lesson. Ever since he had kidnapped Alastor Moody and taken his place at Hogwarts, Barty Crouch Jr. had been observing Jasmine Potter very closely. He was tasked with making sure that when the time was right, the girl could be abducted for use in a dark ritual to bring back his master, Lord Voldemort.

The fake Professor Moody was in something of a conundrum, however. The Potter girl had been behaving a bit oddly in recent classes, and though he had finally figured out what was going on, he wasn't sure what to do about it. Both she and the mudblood Granger were whispering their spells, almost as if they were trying to be gentle about it. The fact that they were still successfully casting their spells suggested that both of them were more powerful than average. But how much more?

The Master had insisted that Barty stay undercover and not contact him except in the most dire of emergencies. This didn't seem to qualify as an emergency; it did, however, seem like something the Master would want to know about. If he sent a message, he risked being punished if his Lord didn't agree that the information was important; if he kept it to himself, he might pay dearly if his Lord later decided that this had been something he needed to know.

 _No_ , he concluded, _I'd better wait for now. There's plenty of time before she needs to be sent to the Master, and even if he does think this is important, it's unlikely there's anything he can or would do about it right now. I can wait until closer to the third task and make a final decision then._

* * *

 **Tuesday, January 26, 1995, Night.**

Hermione Granger sat on her bed in front of a blank piece of parchment, wondering what exactly she should write. She knew in general terms what she needed to say, but how to put those ideas into words and what words to use was eluding her still. _It's bad enough that I have to admit to dating at all_ , she complained to herself, _but I'm also asking for advice when last summer I disdained advice on this topic as unimportant for my life!_

"Well," she muttered, "might as well dive right in..."

Picking up and inking the quill, she proceeded to write: "Dear Mum and Dad, I know you're going to say 'I told you so,' so you might as well go ahead and get it out of your systems now. I've started dating someone here at Hogwarts. I never expected this to happen, and it came on somewhat suddenly, but I find that I'm really happy. Although everything is going well, I'm confused about one thing and would like your advice on it."

Hermione stopped for a minute and bit her bottom lip as she considered her next words, then continued: "The person I'm dating is already a friend. We see each other all the time. Having known each other for a while, we've seen each other's good sides and bad sides. Basically, we've had a very comfortable, platonic relationship. The problem is, I'm having trouble figuring out how to integrate a romantic relationship with that. I don't want to lose the friendship, but I can't figure out how to be platonic one minute and romantic the next. The two are mutually exclusive, aren't they? This is really bothering me and the conflict has been building in me, so I hope you'll write back quickly with at least a little advice. Love, Hermione."

Chewing absently on the end of her quill, Hermione scratched Crookshanks behind one of his ears while reading back over her letter to make sure she didn't slip up and use any gendered pronouns. _I should probably write a longer letter_ , she considered, _but I doubt I'd be able to do that and still easily avoid letting something slip. At least the fact that I'm anxious for advice will help cover why the letter is so short._

Her proofreading finished, she rolled up the parchment and set an alarm charm on her wand so she could wake up extra early and send the letter out with Hedwig. She'd have preferred to use a school owl so she could more easily keep this from Jasmine, but a school owl wouldn't wait for a reply while Hedwig would.

Fortunately, Jasmine didn't ask the next morning what her letter home was about, so she dodged a spell there.

* * *

 **Thursday, January 28, 1995, Afternoon.**

Sirius stared at the faded posters of scantily-clad muggle women on the walls of his old bedroom as he lay back against the headboard and sipped his glass of firewhiskey. It might have been a bit early in the day for drinking, but he had just spent several hours looking through dark books for spells that his goddaughter could use, and after all of that he felt that he could really use a drink. Well, several drinks, considering that he was on his third already.

It had been almost two weeks since the meeting with his goddaughter and her best friend and a little over a week now since he'd first entered #12 Grimmauld Place, a house he'd declared when he was a teenager that he'd never set foot in again. The portrait of his mother had gloated when he first walked in, asking why he'd finally come crawling back. He ignored her, of course, so she'd taken to screaming to get him to pay attention to her.

The house was absolutely disgusting — it had finally come to truly reflect the darkness of those who had lived in it for so long. Sometimes he honestly wondered which was worse: Grimmauld Place or Azkaban. On the surface there shouldn't have been any comparison, but sometimes the darkness of his ancestors seemed to have been absorbed by the house, and it became almost as oppressive as his old prison cell.

If he didn't need to live in it now — and hopefully bring his goddaughter in at some point — he'd have left the place as it was as a monument to irony and inbred, pureblood stupidity. He had to make it habitable, though, while also finding time to get himself healthy again and do all the research he could for Jasmine. Any one of those would be formidable tasks; together, he sometimes wasn't sure he would be up to it.

Jasmine Dorea Potter... He remembered when he first held that little girl, not long after she'd been born. She had looked up at him, reached out to grab his hair, and cooed adorably. He fell in love with her in that instant; in the next, she peed all over him. James promptly took a picture and declared her to be a true Marauder. There were times he wanted to see James in her, but he knew that was simply the ache of the loss of his best friend talking.

The truth was, there was so much of her mother in her it was scary. She had inherited enough of the Potter bone structure to keep her from being Lily's twin, but with that auburn hair and those green eyes, it was easy to forget sometimes that she wasn't Lily Evans — and Sirius had caught himself on more than one occasion nearly calling her Lily.

Sirius took another large drink as he thought about how he'd failed her when he went running off after Peter, and he vowed that he'd never fail her again. No matter what else happened, she'd be his first priority.

He'd already found some good books on the mind arts, so those two witches would be able to start learning Occlumency and Legilimency. He'd also found a little bit on mail redirection spells — he'd probably research more about that next as a break from all the dark arts books he'd been going through.

 _Merlin_ , he thought, _I'd forgotten just how dark some of the magic my family had dabbled in could be! It's a good thing that I'm screening it because I wouldn't want any young witches to see some of this, never mind my goddaughter. I wonder if that's what happened to Bellatrix? She was terribly curious and smart as a young girl, rather like Hermione. Reading some of these books might have been what pushed her down the wrong road... which means I have even more reason to be careful about what I show them. I'm glad I've been able to pull out a few spells that look useful and aren't too dark, but it's taken a lot of work to find them._

Last would be research on tracking and monitoring charms, something Hermione had requested in a letter she'd sent by owl last week. He knew that would probably be the easiest task, but he hadn't started that project yet.

 _Maybe I'll do that tomorrow_ , he thought, _if I get enough done on the mail redirection spells today. Well, providing I get to them again today. But there is way too much darkness running through my head right now. The firewhiskey probably isn't helping me much, either, but it's not like I have anything else in this blasted house to raise my spirits._

 _Heh, spirits_ , he thought as he looked blearily into his glass. _I have a bit more than a week before our next meeting, so I still have plenty of time..._ "Cheers!" he said aloud to nobody in particular and took another drink.

* * *

 **Thursday, January 28, 1995, Evening.**

When the Hufflepuffs showed up for their fourth study session with the three Gryffindors, they brought with them an unexpected guest: Padma Patil of Ravenclaw. The three Gryffindors looked at her with curiosity, though there was also some coolness from Jasmine and Hermione. Not only were they fully aware of the accusations they'd heard from so many Ravenclaws, but they had trouble looking at her and not seeing her twin sister, Parvati.

"I hope you don't mind," Susan explained, fidgeting a bit, "but Padma overheard Hannah and me talking about this, and she asked if she could come along..."

"I won't stay if you don't want me to," Padma spoke up, "but I at least wanted to come this time and apologize for how I've behaved in recent months."

Jasmine and Hermione looked at each other briefly, then looked back at Padma. Jasmine raised an eyebrow but otherwise offered no encouragement.

Padma looked a little unsure in the face of such a reception, but she steeled herself and forged ahead. "When most in Ravenclaw concluded that you must have cheated, I believed their arguments and went along with them. We in Ravenclaw like to pride ourselves in being logical and smart, but I've discovered, much to my chagrin, that Ravenclaws operate on the basis of prejudice and assumptions as much as anyone else. The fact that my sister believed it as well didn't help — I may not have known you, but I figured she did and so gave her opinion a lot of weight."

When Jasmine snorted at that, Padma grimaced. "Yeah, I've since come to realize that she doesn't know you as well as I assumed. Over the Christmas hols, I was subjected to her rants more than usual, and I started to notice that some things just weren't adding up. I concluded that I had never looked very closely at the 'evidence' others were citing to convict you with."

Padma looked back and forth between Jasmine and Hermione, hoping for some positive sign but not getting it. Nevertheless, she pressed on. "Anyway, I did what a Ravenclaw is supposed to do: look at the evidence and think hard about what it means. When I did that, I was horrified to realize that there really wasn't any evidence against you. There also wasn't any hard evidence in your favor, either. This meant that the absolute worst conclusion that a perfectly fair, neutral person should have reached was 'I don't know.' But since you insisted that you were innocent, and since you have no history of doing similar things, a fair person should have taken you at your word. So that's when I…"

"Wait," Jasmine said, holding up one hand. "You actually thought all that out?"

"Well, sure," Padma said, surprised. "How else would I arrive at a conclusion?"

"It's a Ravenclaw thing," Neville stage-whispered.

Now a bit flustered at having her presentation derailed, Padma tried to continue. "Well, to make a long story short, I obviously wasn't being fair or reasonable. No one was, in fact, and once the injustice of it all hit me, I got really upset. You didn't deserve that. And I feel horrible that I was part of it. So I just wanted to say that I was wrong. I don't expect instant forgiveness, but perhaps if we get to know each other and work together, then I can repair some of the damage I've done?"

Jasmine sighed. "It will take time to forgive, but you're one of the very few to ever apologize at all, so thanks for that, at least." Glancing at Hermione for confirmation, she added, "We're willing to try starting over, just like we did with Susan and Hannah."

When Padma smiled at that, Jasmine did as well. Sticking out her hand, she said, "Hi, I'm Jasmine Potter. No titles, no fame, just Jasmine." Padma didn't hesitate to take the proffered hand and introduce herself in return. This was followed by everyone else doing the same in an attempt to wipe the slate clean, figuratively speaking, before sitting down to work.

* * *

The group's study session ended a bit early so they could spend a little more time getting to know Padma.

"Do you like being in Ravenclaw?" Jasmine asked.

"It's OK," Padma answered. "Until this latest issue I was happy as a Ravenclaw. There's certainly less overt bigotry there."

"Bigotry?" Hermione asked.

"Sure, muggleborn aren't the only ones who are looked down on by purebloods in Britain," Padma said. "Did you ever notice that there tends to be more non-whites in Ravenclaw and Gryffindor than in Hufflepuff and Slytherin?"

"I've never thought about it, but I guess you're right," Hannah said slowly, trying to think about the faces at the different tables.

Padma shrugged. "It's not like I get spit on or anything. It's more subtle than that, but it's obvious when you know what to look for. It's annoying, though, that purebloods in Britain think they're something special if they can trace their lineage back a thousand years to the founders of Hogwarts, but my family can trace their magical heritage back over three thousand years — yet **we're** the ones considered inferior here!"

It was clear to everyone else that Padma was more than merely "annoyed" by how she was sometimes treated, but it was also clear that she was trying hard not to let it get to her.

"The advantage of Ravenclaw is that the others are **supposed** to judge you based on merit and performance," Padma continued. "That's why it's appealing to someone like me. It's also why I'm so disappointed in my house right now. It's… it's depressing to learn that they aren't living up to the ideals I thought they were. I mean, what does that say about what they really think of me?"

Susan reached out and put a hand on Padma's shoulder, trying to offer a bit of comfort to the disillusioned Ravenclaw.

"Are you worried about what your housemates will think about you studying with us?" Hermione asked.

"Not really," Padma said. "Most seem to think you cheated and the negativity stems from that — Ravenclaw is very much against cheating of any sort. Paradoxically, those who think you cheated also have a bit of grudging respect for you for having succeeded at it because it was clearly tough to do. Instead of using that fact to conclude that you didn't do it, they assume that you must be more powerful or smarter than they realized."

Jasmine rolled her eyes in exasperation at that, and Padma added, "Yeah, I know. I'm embarrassed now that I used to have similar thoughts. Anyway, you're not hated like you seem to have always been in Slytherin..."

"That's mostly just anti-Gryffindor prejudice," Neville interjected. "Well, that and the fact that so many of their families supported You-Know-Who in some fashion. The tournament mainly just gives them something to focus on."

"Yeah, I can see that," Padma responded. "And in Hufflepuff it's mostly been resentment because of Jasmine also being a champion; but now that I think about it, it's been less obvious recently."

"Yeah, Cedric yelled at our house," Hannah said. "It's made a difference. It used to be that we'd hear snide comments about Jasmine and Hermione all the time" — here she shot the Gryffindors an apologetic look — "but that seemed to stop shortly after what Cedric did."

Padma smiled. "That's good to hear."

"I thought that the Ravenclaw students all had pretty set study groups already," Hermione said. "Won't our meetings interfere with that?"

"Yes," Padma admitted, "but I think it's worth it. I should confess that I had another motive for wanting to come here. When I came to the realization that Ravenclaws weren't as logical and smart as I imagined and that I, too, was just following the collective 'wisdom' of the group, I decided that I needed to branch out and get other, outside viewpoints. What better way to do that than with a group like this?"

Padma's smile was infectious as the others came to understand that the group they had formed wasn't just about getting to know one another, but also about getting to know other perspectives and viewpoints as well. A group like this, they realized, would benefit them in far more ways than with their essays and revising.


	29. Don't Let Me Be Misunderstood

**A/N:** This chapter includes a description of a magical ritual for Imbolc. It is the first of several magical holiday rituals that will appear throughout this story. These rituals are all fictional — creations of my imagination. However, the elements are all drawn from mythology, history, ancient pagan practices, and contemporary Wiccan or neo-pagan practices. So they are genuine elements of actual historical or contemporary beliefs and practices which I have put together in a new way. As far as I know, no one actually does what I describe (even ignoring the magical parts), and it is not intended to depict any actual religious beliefs or practices. There are also themes running through the rituals which parallel themes running through the overarching story. Some of it will be obvious now; some may only be obvious in retrospect after more of the story has unfolded.

 **Recommendation:** This chapter's recommended fic is "Harry Potter and the Shared Destiny" by Sharptooth. Instead of meeting on the train, Harry and Hermione meet at the zoo. This, as they say, changes everything — for the better, too.

* * *

 **Chapter 29 - Don't Let Me Be Misunderstood**

 **Friday, January 29, 1995, Morning.**

Hermione Granger was conflicted. History of Magic class was about to start, and while it was almost universally disliked in Hogwarts, Hermione had made it almost a point of honor that she would stay awake and pay attention to every lecture, no matter how boring or tedious. Oh, yes, she knew the lectures were boring, but it had become a personal challenge to stay awake and pay attention despite how bad the lectures were..

She had even harangued Jasmine into staying awake through Binns' lectures, just so she wouldn't feel completely alone. She would never admit to her girlfriend how horrible she thought Binns was, nor would she admit to how much she relied on Jasmine's presence to stay awake herself — in her mind, that would mean conceding defeat. So she persevered, both taking strength from Jasmine's success and giving inspiration in turn (except for that one time that she actually dozed off, but no one saw it so it didn't count).

Today, though, she was faced with her first real temptation to stray from the path of righteousness: a letter from her parents.

Hedwig had brought it to her at breakfast, and she knew that it was the anxiously awaited response to her questions about combining friendship and romance. She wanted to read this letter more than she probably ever wanted to read any letter from home — but to do that, she'd have to ignore her History of Magic lecture. And even worse, she'd be sitting right next to Jasmine, who might notice.

As Binns began to drone on about the Goblin Rebellion of 1533 led by Ironclaw the Incontinent, and focusing in particular on the rebellion's effects on bubotuber smuggling in Wales, Hermione was practically vibrating with pent-up anxiety and emotion. Finally, she threw caution to the wind and pulled the letter out — though in such a way as to prevent Jasmine from noticing, because she still wasn't willing to look weak in front of her girlfriend.

"Dear Hermione," she read silently to herself, "We told you so!"

It took all of her will and strength not to bang her head on her desk upon reading that. Granted, she had given them permission to say it, but deep down some part of her had been hoping that they wouldn't. Somehow, she managed to stay still and keep reading.

"OK, that's the last you'll hear that from us (on this subject, at least). Sorry, sweetie, but as parents, we're contractually obligated to get that in at least once. One day you'll understand."

Hermione sighed very softly, shaking her head at the joke. "Now, on to your question. Your father and I found it very interesting and, dare I say, amusing. No, we're not laughing at you — not at all. It's just that you've hit upon a problem that many people have, but in typical fashion you're coming at it from the opposite direction. And that should turn out well for the two of you. So, right from the top, smile, because what you fear to be a problem isn't as bad as you think."

Hermione did smile at that. She hadn't experienced this much emotion from her parents in a long time and found herself becoming more and more engrossed in the letter — and not entirely because of the subject matter, either.

"The problem so many people have is that they start dating someone who isn't a friend and then don't know what to do when the initial rush of feelings subsides. They are physically and romantically attracted to someone, but eventually they start to realize that that isn't enough for a long-term relationship. If they don't or can't create a real friendship, then the romantic relationship will fall apart sooner or later — usually sooner. This is a common reason for bad relationships and bad break-ups."

"It doesn't sound like you have that problem, sweetie," the letter continued, "and that's why we're very happy for you. **Any** long-term romantic relationship — not even necessarily a lifelong one — requires friendship at its foundation. And you already have that. If you and your boyfriend are already good friends, then you're both way, way beyond most couples your age."

Hermione suppressed a snort at the comment about "your boyfriend." She knew that the assumption was to be expected, but it was still a little jarring to actually see the word.

"As to the conflict between romance and casual, friendly interaction," the letter went on, "there really isn't any. How do you think your father and I manage? He is my best friend, just as I am his. Obviously you aren't in the same sort of relationship as we are and won't be for quite a few years, but the same principle applies. Every happily married couple act more like friends sometimes and romantic partners other times. They switch back and forth on a regular basis, usually without even thinking about it. So no, they aren't mutually exclusive. Friendship with a person doesn't have to kill romance (if you don't let it — I'll admit that it happens to some couples). Seeing a person when they are moody, depressed, sick, or otherwise at their worst also doesn't have to kill romance. Where there is love, romance will follow. As long as you both are sincere in your desire to make the relationship work, it will. So focus on the love, sweetie."

Hermione started to feel a warm glow from reading those words. It wasn't the flush of embarrassment that she sometimes felt; instead, it was the warmth of love — the love she recognized in her mother's words to her, and the love she now realized she must be feeling for Jasmine. _Where there is love, romance will follow_ , she repeated to herself. _I love Jasmine, and we are sincere in our desire to make this work. Therefore we can and will have a romantic relationship in addition to our friendship. Love and sincerity. Will and intent. How is it that my muggle mother seems to implicitly understand the nature of magic?_

She had no idea what Binns had to say about Ironclaw the Incontinent or the Welsh bubotuber black market, nor did she care. She also didn't notice any of Jasmine's knowing glances. She knew she was loved and was in love, and for that brief period, all was right with the world.

* * *

 **Saturday, January 30, 1995, Morning.**

Jasmine dropped to the rocky ground, breathing heavily in exhaustion. Hermione was only just finishing her own spellcasting exercises, and it didn't look like she was in any better shape. Neither witch had thought very highly of the barren canyon when they had first portkeyed in with Professor Flitwick, especially since it had required so much to get there: first a floo trip to Diagon Alley, then a floo trip to some unidentified house, then two portkeys before they were deposited here... wherever here was.

According to Professor Flitwick, few ever got the chance to train here, and the two witches privately wondered if that was because few ever wanted to. That was the reason for the convoluted trip: those who controlled this area (whoever they were — Flitwick refused to say) imposed very strict security procedures on outsiders.

Scenery aside, though, Professor Flitwick's lessons had been intense and exhausting. He let them really cut loose with the powerful spells that Hermione had scheduled for them today. Only the high level shield charm, _Fortis Aegis_ , hadn't done any damage anywhere, though it was tough to cast and even tougher to hold onto for very long. _At least we can practice that one at Hogwarts_ , Jasmine mused. _If I get into any serious fights, a more powerful shield will be necessary._

The gouging charm, _Defodio_ , created massive gashes in the hard, stony ground and solid rock walls of the canyon. Even from the wand of an average wizard or witch, it would create multiple gouges; what the girls' extra power added was a greater depth and length to the cuts — though for some reason, the length and depth of those cuts kept varying.

Professor Flitwick surmised that their recent increase in power had left them a bit erratic in their ability to control it, much the way a teenager experiencing a growth spurt tends to be clumsy until they get used to their new size. The more power a spell demanded, the more their lack of control became apparent. He expected that once they were able to cast it with a consistent amount of power, a _Defodio_ from Jasmine or Hermione would create large wounds in unshielded attackers. If cast at the feet of opponents, it would force them to move while simultaneously shooting up debris that would harm them or conceal the movements of the caster.

Much to Hermione's consternation, Jasmine found herself particularly taken with _Sphaera Ignea_ , a fire spell that released a large ball of fire at a target. _It's even cooler than_ _ **Incendio**_ , Jasmine thought. _The best thing about it is that the size makes it hard to shield against. Even if it doesn't hit someone directly, it can still splash around the edges and catch clothing on fire. And the massive heat still transfers, too. I just need to learn how to cast it at a consistent size._

Jasmine knew she was going to catch all kinds of flak over her preference for this spell, especially with her dark red hair, but she just couldn't help it.

For her part, Hermione was quite taken with _Corace Corruo_ , the siege engine spell which she was currently using to great effect by tearing apart the rock walls of the canyon they were in. The spell had been created in the middle ages to assist in assaulting the most heavily fortified positions. A strong witch or wizard could use it to take down the walls of a well-defended castle, assuming they could get close enough.

That was probably the biggest drawback of the spell: one had to be a bit closer than was necessary with most spells. Fortunately the incantation wasn't too long, but it left the caster feeling drained for several minutes afterwards — even Jasmine and Hermione — so it would be tough to follow up with another offensive spell or even a shield.

Of course, if the _Corace Corruo_ connected with a person rather than a building, the caster wouldn't need a follow-up spell: a spell strong enough to take down castle walls would be absolutely devastating against people standing around out in the open, shielded or not. Even if they survived the initial blast of the spell, chances were they'd lose their wands and be buried under the dirt and rock they'd been standing on moments before. One way or another, they would be out of the fight.

The thought of such effects bothered Hermione, but the fact that she didn't need to specifically visualize the harm made it easier for her to ignore the consequences for the time being.

Jasmine watched her girlfriend practicing the spell a good distance down the canyon. Even some of Hermione's weaker attempts were impressive. _It's a good thing that the siege engine spell takes a lot of power just to cast it at all_ , Jasmine thought, _otherwise it would be tossed around on the battlefield quicker than stunners._

Their inability to produce consistent effects with these spells had been plaguing both witches all morning. As exhilarating as their successes were, their lack of control was frustrating. On a more positive note, Flitwick felt that they had developed enough restraint with low-level spells that they could practice them without supervision, though he did caution them to continue being careful.

Jasmine was so lost in thought that she didn't realize Hermione had finished until she dropped into a seated position next to her, looking as exhausted as Jasmine felt. "You looked like you were enjoying yourself," Jasmine said by way of a greeting.

"Merlin, yes!" Hermione said with quite a bit of enthusiasm. "I've never had so much fun casting spells. I don't know what it is, exactly. Is it the amount of energy I'm releasing? Is it seeing how much of an impact I'm making by the force of my will and intent? I don't know, but if I weren't so tired out right now I'd still be doing it."

"What you're describing is quite common, Miss Granger," came the voice of Professor Flitwick from behind them. "Sooner or later, the more powerful witches and wizards discover what you are describing. It's a rush that comes from expending large amounts of magic all at once in the use of spells that have a huge impact on the world around us. So it's everything you suspected: the use of so much magic, the use of powerful spells, and making massive changes around you by the exertion of your will."

Both witches smiled broadly at their professor, happy to be learning something that, as far as they knew, was never taught in any classes at Hogwarts. However, their good mood deflated quickly when he continued, "And it's exactly that rush which plays an important role in leading so many impressionable witches and wizards into using the Dark Arts."

After giving them a moment to let that sink in, he went on. "Just about all serious Dark Arts spells are powerful curses which have a big impact on whatever they hit, so they easily provide the rush you are talking about. Young witches and wizards looking for that rush frequently start using darker spells, not realizing that in addition to the rush, darker magic also sometimes comes with its own addictive qualities.

"This is why Professor McGonagall and I are so cautious about what we're teaching you. We know that you need to learn more powerful and more destructive spells, otherwise you won't be able to survive the trials you're sure to face in the future. At the same time, though, we don't want you to become a threat that is even more powerful and terrible than those you will be fighting against.

Jasmine and Hermione looked at each other, fear and concern etched on their faces. This wasn't something either had ever considered.

"On the one hand," Flitwick said, "the fact that there are two of you, and the fact that you are in love, should help prevent any slide into darkness. If one starts to slip, the other will be there to help pull her back. And the loving connection you have with each other is the antithesis of the sorts of emotions needed to drive true Dark Arts. On the other hand, it's entirely possible that two people in your position can end up encouraging the other into more and more darkness. Love has been used as a rationalization for cruelty and oppression more than once over the course of history."

Professor Flitwick's hard face softened as he concluded, "I'm not telling you this to scare you. In all honesty, neither Professor McGonagall nor I think that such a fate is likely for the two of you. However, you need to know that it is not impossible, either — that such things have happened in the past and will certainly happen in the future. In order to avoid it for yourselves, you need to be aware of it and take precautions — like for example, not getting too caught up in the rush you feel from using powerful spells, Miss Granger."

Their professor's stern look returned. "Such powerful spells are a tool. Sometimes, they are a weapon. They must never become a recreational drug."

Both young witches nodded gravely at Flitwick's words.

* * *

 **Sunday, January 31, 1995, Late Night.**

When Jasmine and Hermione landed on Jasmine's broom in front of the Beauxbatons carriage, they could feel the night practically crackle with energy. _Is this real? Is this the power of this particular night?_ Hermione wondered to herself. _I've never felt it before, but I've also never been outside and heading to an Imbolc celebration before._ She couldn't see Jasmine's face very well, even after she had whipped the invisibility cloak off of them, but she felt sure that her girlfriend's thoughts were very similar to her own.

After a soft knock, the carriage door opened to reveal Fleur Delacour wearing a white cotton shift that was thin enough to demonstrate that she wasn't wearing anything else. Smiling broadly, she ushered them quickly into the carriage and led them to a small room where there were a number of piles of neatly folded clothing and two more shifts hanging on the wall.

"I'm so glad you could come," Fleur told them. "Zees eez very exciting. 'Ere you must change into zese shifts. Ze ritual expects zat you will be wearing nothing but zem. No other clothing, no jewelry, and especially nothing magical, zough you may keep your glasses. It eez common that ze ritual eez done in ze nude, but we will not be doing zat tonight. I will go let ze others know you are 'ere while you change."

Once Fleur left, Hermione immediately began to take off her clothing, and because she was so caught up with thinking about the upcoming ritual, she didn't notice Jasmine hesitate and look anywhere but at Hermione before finally joining her. After a few minutes, Fleur returned and led them to another room where about two dozen other witches were waiting, all of them dressed the same way.

Looking around, Hermione saw that they were all very beautiful and wondered if they were all veela. _I don't remember seeing all of them eating at the Ravenclaw table_ , she noted to herself. _I wonder how many of them are students at Beauxbatons? How many are here for the tournament, and how many came just for this ritual?_

After introducing the two English witches to the group, Fleur turned to them and said, "Many magical 'oliday rituals involve a lot of chanting, dancing, and boisterous activity. Zat eez especially true of Imbolc, which traditionally 'as a large zentral bonfire zat people dance around and some even jump through."

She smiled at their wide-eyed reaction before continuing, "We will obviously not be doing zat in our carriage. We did not 'ave time to complete negotiations with ze centaurs to 'old this in the forest, so we will be 'aving a quiet, more reserved ritual 'ere. Instead of a large bonfire, we will 'ave a small fire in a brazier. Instead of people taking smoldering wood 'ome to light zeir 'earths with, we will be lighting candles which you will take back with you."

When the two Gryffindors nodded in understanding, she said, "I know you do not know all ze traditions, and unfortunately we did not 'ave time to talk in advance so I could describe it all to you. So I will stay close, explaining what is 'appening and telling you when you need to do anything. It will also be in English for your benefit."

Jasmine frowned, apparently realizing that she hadn't considered the language aspect of this. "Thank you," Hermione said, feeling even more excited than she had been before. "I had been worried about that because my French isn't all that great — just basic conversational. I'm sure I'd miss all specialized terms and concepts."

Soon everyone started moving towards the door, as if following some command that Jasmine and Hermione hadn't heard. As they walked down the hall, Hermione heard Fleur whispering, "When we get to ze door of ze room where ze ritual is being 'eld, you will each be given a white candle. Take it, and when you enter ze room, zere will be a fire burning in a brazier in ze center. Light your candle, zen take your place around ze room going clockwise. Since we will be entering last, you will be closest to ze door."

Upon taking the candle, Hermione stepped into a large, circular room. _Wow_ , she thought, _this is a lot bigger than I expected! I wonder how many space expansion charms had to be used here to achieve it?_

As soon as she found her place in the circle of witches around the central fire, Hermione shivered and realized that the room was rather cold — maybe even as cold as it was outside the carriage. Looking around, she saw that the others were feeling the cold as well.

When she had her own candle lit, Fleur stepped between them and brought them closer together so she could whisper while still being heard. "Zose two statues on either side of the fire are Artemis and Aphrodite," Fleur said. "Zey are ze two goddesses which tonight's celebration is dedicated to."

A middle-aged and very beautiful witch walked into the room, lit her candle, then addressed the room, turning slowly so that she faced each of the witches briefly. "The world is currently shrouded in darkness, but on this day we know that the darkness will soon end. Accept the flame that we have shared with you, so that you might carry some of the light and warmth of our fire out into the world. Take the light to show others the path out of the dark. Take the warmth to give others succor against the cold. Winter lasts but a season and will be vanquished by those whose faith in the light and warmth of the goddesses remains strong."

Once she was finished, another witch slowly entered. She looked older, but was still very beautiful and Hermione suspected that she was probably veela. Unlike the others, her candle was not only already lit upon entering, but it was burned almost all of the way down.

The first woman spoke again: "The Winter Crone prepares to depart, leaving behind ground that has lain barren for these many months. The Spring Maiden approaches, bringing with her hope for new crops, new growth, and renewed vigor. Gradually our cold ground begins to thaw, becoming ready to accept the seeds of new life. As the ground warms and awakens, life and love will grow and flourish. And as with the ground, so with the womb; as with the earth, so with the mother, the source of all new life."

At that point, a young girl, perhaps 9 or 10 years old to Hermione's eyes, entered carrying a long white rod that appeared to be decorated with some pattern and had something carved at the top. Hermione couldn't see well enough to be sure because the girl started walking away from her and around the room in a clockwise direction, banging the rod on the floor in front of each of the witches. When she did so, Hermione could see a flash of energy, and it felt like the pressure in the room grew. At the same time, the fire in the brazier seemed to grow just a little bit higher and the temperature became a little bit warmer.

"Zat is Brigid's rod," Fleur whispered. "It represents both a serpent and a swan, two animals zat are very important to the goddess. It eez natural zat ze veela would adopt it, given our avian forms and 'eritage. At ze top are two 'eads, one a serpent and one a swan."

When the girl stepped in front of her, Hermione expected the burst of magic when she banged the rod on the floor, but the actual experience was unlike anything she'd ever felt before. Her skin tingled all over and she felt as though all of her senses had been heightened.

That feeling still lingered even as the girl moved on to Jasmine. When she banged the rod on the floor, Hermione felt another burst of magic; but then the rod shuddered, and the carved serpent head started to move. Everyone in the room gasped and stared when the head twisted to face Jasmine and began hissing. When Hermione looked more closely at Jasmine, she saw recognition in her girlfriend's eyes and knew that the serpent must be speaking to her, even though it wasn't real.

The serpent head then turned to face the girl and hissed briefly before the girl's eyes started glowing, and she began to speak in a deep, resonant voice that was clearly not her own:

The time of the Great Prophecy approaches.  
The maidens have arrived.  
Their magic must unite.  
Their power must emerge.  
Their love must flourish.  
The Feminine must ascend.  
The Great Prophecy must come to pass.

Once she was finished, she seemed to sag a bit while the serpent head turned back to Jasmine and hissed yet again, about as long as it had the first time. After that, it returned to its original state. The young girl shook her head, blinking rapidly as if she weren't sure what had happened, and then continued walking the last few steps of the circle as she had been doing.

Everyone else in the room looked very uneasy and kept casting uncertain looks in Jasmine's direction. None of them, though, felt nearly as uneasy as Jasmine herself looked. _What the bloody hell was that?_ Hermione wondered. _What did it say to her? And what was that little girl talking about? Jasmine hates it when snakes talk to her, and now it's gone and happened in public. Hopefully all of these other witches don't think she's a Dark Witch who has ruined their ritual!_

Fortunately, when she looked at Fleur, she didn't see any fear or condemnation; instead, the dominant expression was curiosity.

Finished with the circle, the child moved to the center of the room, where she lit her candle from that of the old woman, who in turn dropped her nearly finished candle into the brazier. This caused the fire to rise up even higher. Suddenly there was a burst of magical energy that washed over them all, and Hermione felt more energized than before. Then the old witch pulled out a new candle, lit it from the brazier, and joined the others around the circle.

"Ze rod and ze brazier both imparted to us some of ze magical energy created during ze ritual," Fleur said, explaining why Hermione was feeling the way she was. "All ze participants take in a bit of ze ritual's energy before making a sacrifice of energy for ze sake of ze coven back to ze ritual and ze goddesses. When ze rituals are performed outside, ze magic is taken in more gradually as it rises up out of ze ground."

A new witch entered the room, carrying a large chalice. Standing in front of the brazier, she turned to each of the statues briefly and bowed as she asked the goddesses Artemis and Aphrodite to bless them all for the coming year. She then handed a small dagger to the child, who pricked a finger, drawing blood, then placed the dagger in the chalice, which was itself placed at the base of the brazier.

"Zat was a ritual representation of ze sexual union," Fleur whispered. "Zere is no actual sex in our celebrations, at least most of ze time, but we 'onor the ze importance of sex because of its role in life and love at ze dawning of spring."

"And why did she cut her finger?" Hermione asked.

"Zat eez my sister," Fleur answered. "She's just turned thirteen and zis eez 'er first time. It eez always ze first time for ze young girl chosen to represent ze Spring Maiden, and ze drop of blood is ze representation of ze loss of 'er virginity. She eez ze young maiden who becomes ze woman, zough Maman would be quite upset if it 'appened for real any time soon."

"Thirteen?" Jasmine asked incredulously. "She looks so much younger."

"Oui," Fleur said. "Veela mature slowly until we reach puberty, zen we grow fast to catch up."

While they were talking, another witch had walked in with a much larger chalice and had asked Artemis and Aphrodite to bless it as had been done with the previous chalice. She then started walking around the circle, giving a sip of something to each witch.

As she did so, the first woman began speaking, "Partake of this milk, a sign of coming birth and the means by which a mother sustains the new life she has created. In this way, you are partaking of the life of our coven and community. "

"Milk was sacred to ze ancient Celts, especially in Ireland and Scotland," Fleur explained quietly. "It was far more zan just another food — it was a symbol of life itself, especially in ze spring when ze sheep started being full of milk. Zat eez why it plays an important role 'ere."

Jasmine and Hermione both took a small sip of the milk; it was sweeter and thicker than the milk Hermione was used to drinking, and she wondered where it had come from. Once everyone had taken a sip, the woman said in a loud voice, "Thank you, Brigid!" Fleur whispered quickly to repeat the line and they did, thanking Brigid along with the other assembled witches.

As soon as Jasmine, the last witch in the circle, finished saying the final word, Hermione felt as if magic rushed out of her towards the center of the room. She barely had time to notice that the other witches looked as drained as she felt when magical energy seemed to burst back out of the fire, through her, and out of the room itself.

"Did you feel zat?" Fleur asked, sounding a little breathless and surprised. Hermione nodded and Fleur continued, "Zat was first ze sacrifice of magic which collected in ze fire. When ze goddesses are pleased with ze ritual, ze magic eez enhanced and multiplied, zen returned and shared with nature around us. Zis time, it was much stronger zan I am accustomed to. Ze goddesses must 'ave been very, very pleased."

Apparently the other witches were also surprised at the power of the ritual because it took them a few moments to recover. Once everyone started filing out, Fleur said, "Ze main ritual is done, but now we have a small meal. It eez not much, just a way for ze community to gather and break bread together."

Everyone returned to the previous room where there was now a large table set up with fruit, cheese, and bread. Hermione noticed as they sat down that the other witches had started chatting in rapid French. She could pick up a few words here and there, but they talked too fast for her to get much, and she knew that Jasmine understood none of it.

As if that weren't isolating enough, all of them kept sneaking glances at the two English witches, and at Jasmine in particular. They weren't subtle enough about it to remain completely inconspicuous, and Hermione was all too familiar with the signs. It was almost like eating in the Great Hall after some new catastrophe had made Jasmine the talk of the school again.

"Fleur, do you know what happened with your sister and that serpent?" Hermione asked, saving Jasmine from having to do it. "Is that a normal occurrence?"

"Non," Fleur replied, her expression apologetic. "I do not know why she said zose zings. Zey did not make any more sense to me zan zey did to you. And ze serpent..." Fleur shuddered at the thought of the carved serpent coming to life. "I 'ave never seen or 'eard of anything like zat. I promise, zough, to ask my maman if she 'as any ideas. Regardless, you did nothing wrong, I assure you."

"Was the snake speaking parseltongue?" Hermione asked Jasmine. "Could you understand it?"

Jasmine nodded silently. "I didn't even realize at first that it was speaking parseltongue — I never do. It was only when I thought about the fact that it was a snake speaking that I realized it must sound like hissing to the rest of you."

"It was speaking?" Fleur asked, surprised. "Can you tell us what it said?"

Jasmine hesitated, then answered, "I'd… I'd rather not talk about it. It didn't say anything bad or about the ritual, but I don't like being reminded about something that's caused people to hate and bully me."

Fleur looked a bit disappointed but promised not to pester her with questions about it, something which earned the French witch a smile of gratitude. Hermione wanted to ask more, but she kept it in, trying to focus instead on how the magic of the ritual seemed to have affected her. When the magic rushed out of her, she had felt severely fatigued, but when it returned, she felt energized again — not quite as energized as she had prior to that when she was affected by the extra magic being produced during the ritual itself, but definitely energized.

The tingling sensation was without a doubt stronger, and it extended to more than just her skin now. Hermione wasn't sure how to describe it, but it seemed to be a combination of happiness, excitement, and anxiousness. Jasmine looked like she might have felt a bit energized, too, but her anxiousness seemed to be more due to the incident with the serpent.

Hermione hoped she'd be able to distract her girlfriend from her worries soon...

* * *

 **Monday, February 1, 1995, Even Later.**

 _This is it_ , Hermione thought excitedly. _This is the best time_.

She had been positively brimming with energy and excitement since the ceremony a few hours earlier. She wasn't willing to commit to any explanation as to why, but she had to agree with the descriptions that such ceremonies created quite a build up of magical energy. Hermione felt like she could do absolutely anything right now!

There was, however, just one thing she wanted to do — something she had been planning on for a while: move the physical aspect of her relationship with Jasmine forward. The previous steps forward which she had initiated had all been very small, but this one would be significant and she was eagerly looking forward to it. The flight back from the carriage had been divine, in Hermione's opinion. Being pressed up against Jasmine had made her feel even more empowered, to the point of being almost giddy.

 _The timing could be better_ , she had to admit to herself as she started to change her clothes and put on what she thought was her best-looking silk nightshirt. _This late at night before Monday morning classes will cause problems... but there really is no better time otherwise. I don't want to go too far, so it shouldn't take a lot of time, anyway._

Making sure to put on just a tiny bit of perfume behind her ears, she gave Crookshanks a quick kiss on his head, then padded quietly over to Jasmine's bed. On the way she paused briefly to note that, like her, Jasmine had put her white Imbolc candle on her bedside table. Upon sticking her head through the curtains, she saw that Jasmine was still awake, her head and shoulders propped up on pillows against her headboard. _She still looks worried and upset_ , Hermione noticed. _I'm sure this will make her feel better._

Previously, the magical energy had simply been making her excited and energized; now, in Jasmine's presence, it was having an effect somewhat analogous to being drunk. Because of that, Hermione didn't stop to think about why Jasmine was so upset. Or whether what she was about to do was a good idea.

"Hermione?" Jasmine asked. "You couldn't sleep either?"

"No," Hermione answered as she climbed into the bed. "I'm feeling so energized, and excited, and… and… I'm not sure what exactly, but I couldn't wait to come over here to you."

"I'm glad you're here, Hermione," Jasmine said a bit morosely. "I have no idea what that girl was trying to say to me. And then that snake! It was a bit rude, actually. I **so** hate being a parselmouth." She wanted to lay her head on Hermione's shoulder, but instead of settling in next to her as she often did, she stayed on her hands and knees and positioned herself over Jasmine, with one hand on the bed on either side of her girlfriend and one knee between Jasmine's outstretched legs.

"Snake?" Hermione asked, not entirely paying attention and instead nuzzling her girlfriend's neck, delighting in her scent and warmth.

Jasmine smiled softly in pleasure before saying, "Usually you want to talk things out! But I suppose being distracted like this isn't so bad..."

"Yeah," Hermione whispered as she started kissing along Jasmine's jaw. "You're worrying too much, and I've been thinking about this all week."

Before Jasmine could say anything, Hermione moved to her lips and started kissing her much more passionately than she had ever done before. It surprised Jasmine, though not too much because Hermione had always been rather assertive in that area, and Jasmine generally let Hermione take the lead when it came to physical interaction. Despite her anxiety over what had happened during the ceremony, Jasmine felt herself respond to Hermione's advances, finally allowing herself to feel the magical energy of the ceremony enough that her emotions and body were urged forward while conscious thought started going fuzzy.

Gradually, Hermione lowered her weight to her elbows and leaned down against Jasmine, who responded by wrapping her arms about Hermione's back. Lifting one hand from the bed, Hermione held it against Jasmine's waist, then slowly drew it up her body. Jasmine didn't really notice what was going on until she felt Hermione's hand cup something that her girlfriend hadn't ever touched before. Jasmine stiffened in surprise, then felt Hermione's thigh come forward and press between her legs.

At that, Jasmine yelped and pushed Hermione off of her and to one side of the bed, moving quickly herself to the other side. As narrow as the dorm beds were, they weren't very far apart, but to Hermione it felt like a massive gulf had just opened up between them. "Jasmine?" Hermione asked, shock and hurt evident in her voice as her mind cleared. "What… what's wrong? What did I do?"

Jasmine had a panicked look on her face, then started shaking her head as the words tumbled out. "No, no. I can't. I'm sorry, I just can't. I... I... I'm not a freak!" Suddenly, she reached under her pillow, pulled out what was clearly her invisibility cloak, and ran.

"Jasmine!" Hermione called out in a hoarse whisper. Poking her head out through Jasmine's bed curtains, she saw the door open and close, but there was no sign of Jasmine herself. Hermione slid back into the bed and curled in on herself. "What did I do?" she cried softly as she sobbed under Jasmine's blankets.


	30. When I Touch Myself

**A/N:** This chapter is the midpoint for the fourth year portion of the story, which means it's appropriate that some big things are happening. You'll finally start learning why the Veela are so interested in our young couple, for example. A couple of readers have expressed concern about the incident in the last chapter being unnecessary drama or angst for the sake of entertainment. Nothing could be further from the truth.

First, neither of the girls are perfectly well-adjusted and it would be wrong to write them as if they were. Their bond will help them get past their problems quickly, but they will have problems. Since the last serious issue between them was over 20 chapters ago, I don't think it's too much. Second, it will lead them to important conversations about themselves, their relationship, and the connection between love and magic. Where they are going as a couple will have a lot more value because of those conversations and the work they put into overcoming their problems. Third, it will affect other relationships and feed into **significant** plot developments. Big things grow from tiny seeds.

 **Recommendation:** This chapter's recommended fic is "A Darkened World," by sprinter1988. When Ron abandons Harry during the horcrux hunt, he ends up taking Hermione with him… and that causes everything to fall apart. Twenty years later, Harry is still alone, still living in the tent, and still trying to fight Voldemort, when someone new and unexpected shows up.

* * *

 **Chapter 30 - When I Touch Myself**

 **Monday, February 1, 1995, Morning.**

Jasmine never returned to bed that night — Hermione knew, because she spent the night in Jasmine's bed rather than her own, thinking about what had happened. Being surrounded by the scent of Jasmine's shampoo and soap comforted her, even though she hardly got any sleep. Jasmine also didn't show up to breakfast, causing Neville and Ginny to ask about her. Hermione didn't have any answers — or at least, none she wanted to share. Both of her friends recognized that there was a problem, but neither knew what it was or what to do, so they didn't press.

Jasmine did show up to Herbology that morning, and she looked as exhausted as Hermione felt. She didn't return Hermione's tentative greeting and refused to even look at her except for one moment at the beginning, when she mouthed the word "Later." Hermione was torn between happiness at the fact that there would be some sort of conversation later and fear because Jasmine was so upset that she refused to look at or speak to her.

Susan and Hannah seemed to recognize that something was wrong, at least going by the expressions on their faces when they snuck glances across the greenhouse, but they wisely kept out of it. They knew that their relationship with the Gryffindor witches wasn't yet good enough to allow them to get involved beyond showing support from a distance.

Care of Magical Creatures wasn't any better, not that Hermione was surprised. Malfoy fortunately didn't seem to notice that there was anything odd about Hermione's or Jasmine's behavior, but he mouthed off as much as he usually did. Curiously, Jasmine didn't seem to react to anything he said, not even slightly. Hermione wasn't even sure if Jasmine noticed, which was very unusual.

That was the pattern they followed for the rest of the day. Jasmine didn't show up for lunch or dinner and remained silent in classes, not looking at or talking to anyone but still doing her work, albeit with a distracted air about her. Hermione just fretted and worried, knowing that she must have done something horrible but not sure what and so didn't have any idea what to do about it.

She was convinced that she had somehow ruined her relationship with Jasmine, just a month and a half after they started dating. She wasn't even sure Jasmine still wanted to be friends, which compounded her sense of loss and despair. She wouldn't find out one way or another until that night.

* * *

 **Monday, February 1, 1995, Afternoon.**

Fleur had been shocked the previous day when her entire immediate family had arrived to participate in that evening's Imbolc celebration. In fact, almost everyone in attendance had been family, with her mother, sister, and grandmother playing key roles. Like other holidays, it was of course important to her family and community, but she could tell that their arrival at Hogwarts had more to do with the two English witches and their participation in the ceremony than anything else.

And they still weren't telling her anything!

"Maman," Fleur said a little petulantly in French as she sat down to lunch with her mother and grandmother, snuggling in between them on the couch, "when are you going to explain to me what is going on? I've done as you have asked and I haven't questioned your instructions, but I don't like being kept in the dark like this. And I wish I could tell more to Hermione and Jasmine — they are very sweet, very nice girls, and it feels dishonest to keep things from them."

Apolline and Sybine shot each other an indecipherable look before responding. "Fleur, it is true that there is much that you do not know, but it is not because we do not trust you," her mother, Apolline, began. "Some of it is because we are not permitted to tell you. The information is protected by strong oaths taken by leaders and scholars among our people. I strongly suspect that you will be allowed access to that information sooner rather than later because of your position here and your relationship with those two witches, but for now we must remain silent."

"Other things," her grandmother, Sybine, continued, "we couldn't risk saying in a letter. We had to wait until we could talk to you in person. That's part of the reason for this lunch and why Gabrielle was not invited to join us. The other part is to discuss what happened last night during the ceremony."

"Speaking of which," interrupted her mother, "did you tell them that your family would be there?"

Fleur winced at that question. She had intended to remain quiet about the presence of her family, knowing that Hermione and Jasmine were anxious to learn what they knew. "Unfortunately," she answered, "I let slip the identity of Gabrielle when I explained what she was doing. Neither of them seemed to think anything of that, though, so I doubt they suspect that you were there."

"Good," Apolline replied. "We'll meet them eventually, but we didn't want them asking us a lot of questions that we couldn't answer. We'll leave Gabrielle here for a while to make it appear as though she was visiting you and that's why she was able to participate. She's been begging to visit you and Hogwarts anyway, and I think she can do with a break from her homeschooling program, so it works out well for everyone."

"It's not exactly the best season to visit Scotland," Fleur observed ruefully as she leaned in more against her mother, "but it will be nice to spend some time with Gabrielle. It's been very hard being so far from all of my family."

"Before we go on," Sybine announced, "we must have your word that you won't tell any of this to those two English witches unless we give you permission." Fleur tried to protest, but Sybine talked over her. "I mean it! Some of this you cannot tell them because if you try, Magic will prevent you — and if you managed to even give good hints, it could cause them great harm. They will find out eventually, but they must find out on their own when they are truly ready. It is the way of things. It is what Magic demands, and we dare not try to override it by imposing our own agenda or schedule on it."

Fleur still wasn't happy, but accepted that explanation and gave her word to remain silent.

"Good," Sybine continued. "Your mother and I watched those two closely last night and then talked about it for a while after they left. Our observations were not as conclusive as we had hoped they would be. The one with dark red hair seemed very uncomfortable and anxious to us, though the one with brown hair seemed to be very excited and happy."

"Yes," Fleur agreed. "Jasmine was far more anxious and uncomfortable than I've seen her before… well, except perhaps for when she was chosen for the tournament, but she was also rather angry then, too. It was not at all her usual demeanor."

"Really?" Apolline asked, looking over at her mother. "That's good to hear. If she's usually more relaxed around the other young witch and around you, that casts a better light on things."

"Indeed," agreed Sybine, leaning back in the couch with a glass of wine and a thoughtful look on her face. "Perhaps it was just the ceremony. You said that neither had ever participated in anything like that before, yes? Maybe she's just less comfortable in new situations with strangers."

"From what I've been able to tell through my own observations and what others have told me," Fleur responded, "Hermione is always eager to learn new things about almost any topic. She hung on my every word when I was explaining things last night."

Sybine nodded, seemingly pleased about this information. "Good, that makes me feel better. Now, as I was saying, we both watched them closely and we saw the same sort of connection between them that you told us about in your letters. Your description was, in fact, very accurate, and I'm proud of how far you're progressing in your ability to sense such things, Fleur."

The younger Veela beamed at this praise from her grandmother, a woman widely respected among the Veela for her skills in navigating emotional connections and bonds...

"A bond!" Fleur suddenly blurted out, surprising even herself with her outburst. She sat up straight and looked back and forth between the other two, who started smiling.

"I was wondering if you would figure it out on your own," Apolline said, pulling her daughter back and putting her arm around her. "Have they told you if they are involved in a romantic relationship?"

"No," Fleur said, her mind racing to reexamine all her observations thus far in light of this new information.

"I'm not surprised, given the English attitudes towards such relationships," Apolline replied, the unspoken criticism clear in her voice, "but I'm sure that they are."

"Then why have I not detected such a connection between others?" Fleur asked, remembering the time the two girls asked her about where else she'd seen such a connection.

"Because it's much, much more than just a romantic tryst," Sybine explained. "Your mother and I are convinced that they have begun a… well, a _special_ bond. There is nothing else in our records which exhibits the signs we have all seen. Not even marriage bonds, which were originally created to mimic special bonds, exhibit such patterns of energy."

"Special bond?" Fleur asked. "You don't mean to say that Jasmine Potter and Hermione Granger have a s-s-s… ugh!" Fleur suddenly gripped her head in her hands. "What is the matter with me?"

"Don't drive yourself crazy trying to say it," her mother cautioned her. "Magic won't let you say it out loud, nor even think it clearly, until the couple involved understands and reveals it to you themselves. Even then, you'll only be able to use the correct label when in the presence of others who have also been told by the couple. True knowledge of the nature of their bond is magically hidden."

"Besides," her grandmother added, "technically the bond is still developing. They won't truly have the bond until they consummate it."

"A s-s-s-s..." Fleur sighed, then tried again. "They have a _special_ bond..." Fleur finally managed to say, trying to remember what she had read on the topic and not coming up with much.

"And that's why you cannot say anything," her mother pointed out. "Veela know more about such bonds than anyone else, but even our knowledge is scanty. Nevertheless, the one thing everyone knows is that it's impossible to try to inform couples who are forming such a bond before they are ready — and when they are ready, Magic ensures that they find out for themselves. It is likely related to why Magic causes such bonds to be created at all."

"Many believe that that is also one reason why so little knowledge about such bonds has been preserved," added Sybine. "Magic has somehow ensured this in order to prevent those who are developing such a bond from inadvertently reading too much about the topic in some book. They may learn that a 'soul bond' is something that exists, but not too much about what it consists of or what it means."

Fleur nodded in understanding. She wouldn't risk destroying what Hermione and Jasmine had by trying to inform them about what was happening, not that it was very likely that she'd succeed anyway. "Is there anything at all that I can tell them?" she finally asked.

After her mother and grandmother considered it, Sybine said, "No specifics, no. If they press, you can tell them that as far as you know, there is nothing **bad** going on — not for them and not for anyone around them. Hopefully that will reassure them if they are worried. You can also tell them that certain Veela secrecy oaths prevent you from going into detail about what's happening, that that itself is something they need to keep quiet about, and that they will probably be let in on more in the future. This may placate them and prevent them from resenting you for being secretive."

"Technically there are no Veela secrecy oaths involved with these special bonds," Apolline said, "but they are involved with another, closely related matter. And that brings us to the events of last night, specifically those involving your sister. You do remember your lessons about the Veela prophet Cassandra Predire, right?"

Of course Fleur remembered — she was the most famous prophet in Veela history, despite the fact that knowledge of the details and exact wording of many of her prophecies were limited to only a select group of Veela. She was so famous because so many of her prophecies had come true, and no one wanted to risk someone interfering with any of the others or trying to force them towards any particular conclusion. In every case of someone meddling with prophecy, whether it was to thwart it or to "encourage" it, matters had turned out badly for everyone involved.

"Good," Apolline said when Fleur nodded. "That's one of the things which you may be let in on soon. One of the reasons we came here is that we suspect those two witches could be involved in the Great Prophecy, which is the most important prophecy Predire ever gave. You are now one of the few in the world who even knows of that prophecy's existence, and very, very few know what it says. Now, after having seen those two in person, we are more convinced than ever that they are part of it. The hissing serpent head by itself is somewhat curious, but not necessarily relevant as far as we know, however..."

"She's a parselmouth!" Fleur interrupted.

"Who? A what?" Sybine asked.

"Jasmine Potter is a parselmouth," Fleur said. "She told me so when she recounted the story about how she opened the Chamber of Secrets and killed a basilisk. Hermione asked her last night about what the serpent's head said to her, but she didn't want to talk about it. She doesn't like the ability because of how it's viewed in Britain and how she was treated when her ability was revealed to the school."

"More British narrow mindedness," Apolline muttered as she shook her head.

The two older Veela were intrigued to learn of Jasmine's ability and had Fleur tell them the whole story. They were shocked when they learned just how big the basilisk was that Jasmine had faced, and at the end, Apolline asked, "What did you say the basilisk addressed her as?"

Fleur thought for a moment, then answered, "She said 'speaker,' I'm sure of it."

Apolline and Sybine gave each other a knowing look, then Apolline returned to what she had been saying before. "Thank you, that is more helpful than you can imagine. We should assume that the serpent said something important to her, and if you can, please find out. It may be more significant than we realized."

"I will try," Fleur responded, "but it may be a while before she trusts me enough to talk about it in such detail, and I promised not to pester her about it."

Apolline nodded in sympathy. "I understand. Of more immediate importance is what your sister said. It was clearly a prophecy, and she had no memory of having said anything when we asked her about it later."

"Truly?" Fleur asked. "A legitimate prophecy?"

"Yes," Sybine answered. "And because it was said here in Britain, we have to assume that their Department of Mysteries now has a record of it. They can't listen to it, but if we are right about the importance of those two, then anyone who looks will find out that a prophecy involving Jasmine Potter and Hermione Granger has been made. That could cause us trouble, so we'll have to be careful. And we want you to keep an even closer eye on them, do you understand?"

"Yes, grandmere," answered Fleur distractedly, her mind jumping back and forth between a million different things. She had come to England to watch and maybe participate in the Triwizard Tournament, but now she found herself involved in the unfolding of the Great Prophecy of Cassandra Predire! Predire's predictions had been a touchstone of Veela culture for a thousand years, and here she was right in the middle of one of them… perhaps the biggest one of all!

Although few had been granted the privilege to learn the contents of her as-yet unfulfilled prophecies, they were the subject of extensive speculation — one of the drawbacks of such strict secrecy. Some Veela believed they foretold of an apocalypse that would destroy the magical world. Others believed they foretold of the creation of a new magical paradise. Still others believed that they foretold both — that for the latter to occur, the former had to happen.

There had even been a few militant cults that had arisen from time to time, all based around one or another belief about what was in Predire's unreleased prophecies. The only thing those cults had really managed to accomplish was to prove the wisdom of keeping the contents of prophecies secret, because anyone who tried to rush, control, or manipulate prophecy only ended up causing misery for everyone.

Fleur wasn't sure if she should be more hopeful or afraid. The guarded looks on the faces of her mother and grandmother didn't inspire much optimism.

* * *

 **Monday, February 1, 1995, Evening.**

For the second night in a row, the soul of Tom Riddle was feeling happy. Not only did he not feel any pain — neither the sharp spikes of agony that had been regularly hitting him since before the holidays nor the the underlying ache and discomfort that had settled in — but he in fact felt _good_.

 _We can't remember the last time Our body and magic felt this wonderful_ , he mused to himself. _Maybe it was when We tortured and killed that muggle family in Inverness back in '78? Or maybe it was when We killed that whole family of muggleborn, including their filthy, extended family of muggle relatives, in Amesbury in '75?_

While Riddle lay in his bassinet and reminisced about his happiest memories, Peter Pettigrew sat in the other room and thanked whatever deities were looking down on him for this respite from torture. It had gotten to the point where he was being hit with the cruciatus curse almost every day, usually in the evening. If it hadn't been for the fact that the power behind his master's cursing had grown weaker, Peter was sure that he'd have been driven insane by now, destined for a bed in St. Mungo's next to the Longbottoms.

His good mood was tempered, though, by the fact that he was sure that it wouldn't last. They still knew nothing about the source of the pain, which meant that it would probably return, as would Peter's punishments for either having caused the pain or for failing to stop it (whichever excuse his master wanted to use at the time).

In a dark corner, Nagini lay curled up, watching her master. He had been feeling good the past couple of days, and that made her feel better, too; but she was still suspicious of what had been happening to him and didn't trust the changes any more than Peter did.

* * *

 **Monday, February 1, 1995, Night.**

After dinner, Hermione found a note on her bed from Jasmine asking her to come to the Room of Requirement when she was free. It wouldn't have mattered what Hermione might otherwise have had planned, though: getting to Jasmine was her top priority, and she fairly flew out of the common room and to the seventh floor. When she arrived at the Room of Requirement and peeked inside, she took heart from the fact that it was similar to the romantic room that had been created for their New Year's Eve date. The table and dance floor were absent, of course, but it was the same loveseat and fire.

 _I guess this is where she's been spending her time_ , Hermione concluded. _At least she's been somewhere safe, and I'm sure Dobby has been taking care of her._

Very slowly and hesitantly, Hermione stepped into the room and shut the door. "Jasmine," she called out somewhat uncertainly to the girl already sitting on the loveseat. The auburn-haired witch turned to the door, and Hermione saw that her face showed not only the exhaustion from a sleepless night, but also a mix of fear, worry, and sadness.

Moving more quickly now, Hermione came over and knelt in front of Jasmine. She started to automatically reach for Jasmine's hands, but then she hesitated, in the end simply resting her own on the edge of the loveseat. When she spoke, her voice was quiet but earnest. "I'm so sorry, Jasmine. Whatever it is that I did, I'm so, so sorry. I never meant to hurt you or scare you or whatever. I only intended to have a short, romantic..."

"Ssshhh," Jasmine said soothingly. "It's not you, it's me. I'm… I'm the one who's sorry, Hermione. I'm not sure what to do about this. I'm not even sure how to explain it." She shuddered with the intensity of her emotions and stared down at her lap.

Hermione rose to sit next to Jasmine, trying to face her in the close quarters of the loveseat but carefully not touching her, and said, "Then please, start at the beginning. I'll do whatever I need to in order to help make this right."

Jasmine laughed bitterly. "I'm not sure what anyone can do to help me." She fell silent for a long while, and Hermione patiently waited for her to collect her thoughts. Finally, Jasmine said, "You know that the Dursleys didn't treat me well and were especially harsh whenever it came to things that were 'abnormal.' Well, one thing that I haven't talked about is the fact that magic isn't the only thing they disapprove of as not being appropriate, proper, or normal. I can't imagine what they'd say about me right now…."

After taking a ragged breath, she continued, "I don't remember how old I was at the time that it happened. I was five or six, I suppose, and I can't even really remember the incident clearly. It's all just brief flashes. I had been taking a bath — apparently that's a little young to leave a child completely alone in a bath, but they always did, probably hoping I'd drown. Anyway, I took too long in my bath, and Petunia barged in, demanding to know what was going on. The reason I'd been taking too long was because I'd discovered… well… I'd been, uh, touching myself and lost track of time. Petunia was outraged. She dragged me right out of the tub and took me, still naked and dripping wet, straight to Vernon, telling him about what I was doing."

Jasmine was clearly having trouble speaking now, and Hermione wanted to reach out to her but wasn't sure it would be welcomed.

"Both of them started screaming at me about my 'unnatural' behavior and how only 'freaks' touch themselves like that. They then gave me the worst beating of my life — and Petunia almost never hit me, unless it was to swing a frying pan. She usually left that job to Vernon, and even he seemed to avoid it. I got the impression that he didn't like the idea of hitting a girl. After that, every trip to the bathroom — bath, shower, or toilet — was timed. If I even looked like I was touching or scratching myself somewhere 'inappropriate,' I'd be punished. Even if I just scratched my chest, I'd be punished. It was pretty much the only reason they used physical punishment on me."

Hermione was horrified at what she was hearing. She thought that she already had plenty of reasons for hexing the Dursleys into next week, but all of that paled in comparison to what she was learning now.

While saying this, Jasmine had been slowly curling in on herself, as if she were trying to protect herself from being hit. "I'm sorry, Hermione, but when you touched me like that, I… I remembered all the times I was punished. I panicked and ran. When I finally stopped running and had a chance to think, I realized you weren't going to hurt me, but I also realized that what you were doing might seem normal to you. And I… I don't know if I can do it. I don't know if I can do the things you must want from me. Merlin, Hermione, I'm not even sure why I'm able to say this much to you — a year ago, I never would have admitted any of this to anyone. I feel… I'm so messed up. I feel like I'm broken and can't be fixed."

Inside, Hermione was torn between rage at the Dursleys and pity at how Jasmine had obviously suffered. She kept a tight rein on her reactions, however, because neither emotion was going to help the girl beside her just then.

Sobbing now, Jasmine laid her head dejectedly on Hermione's shoulder. With that, Hermione put an arm around her girlfriend and pulled her close, resting her cheek against Jasmine's hair and whispering to her that it would all be alright. She wasn't sure yet exactly how she'd make it all alright (especially since she didn't think there was anyone she could go to in order to get advice about this), but she wanted to think that Jasmine's problems were surmountable. _It could have been worse,_ she realized. _For a moment there, it sounded like she might be leading up to something that was definitely worse. Not that this isn't plenty bad enough..._.

In retrospect, she also had to consider the role her own hasty actions played in this because she hadn't taken the time to talk to Jasmine about what she had wanted to do on the night of Imbolc. _I really shouldn't have assumed that Jasmine wouldn't have a problem with any of it,_ she thought guiltily.

 _We're going to have to have a very frank conversation about some uncomfortable things_ , Hermione concluded. _However, that conversation will have to wait. Tonight, I need to focus on comforting her. Tomorrow night, maybe, we'll get to talking._

And so for the rest of the evening, until well past curfew, they sat there holding each other.

 **Tuesday, February 2, 1995, Morning.**

Jasmine wasn't exactly "back to normal" the next day, but everyone who had noticed her mood the day before could tell that she'd improved. She no longer looked quite so scared, but she still had a worried air about her.

Hermione showed the biggest improvement, but instead of worried she looked more thoughtful, and it was clear that she had something on her mind — something that distracted her during every class. This didn't make any difference in History of Magic because Professor Binns didn't even notice when students were absent or sleeping in class, never mind if they weren't paying close attention. Transfiguration was another matter entirely, though.

After spending so much extra time with her two favorite lionesses, Professor McGonagall had become fairly adept at reading them. Even the occasional glimpse in the halls the previous day had been enough to tell her something was wrong, if only because they were apart; and that was aside from Jasmine's absence from meals. Today she could see that matters were better, but still not settled.

 _At least the problem with Mr. Longbottom's wand has been dealt with_ , she thought to herself.

"Hey, Neville, is that a new wand?" Hermione asked, shaking herself from her distracted mood when she noticed how much better Neville was doing with his transfiguration spellwork.

"Yeah," Neville said with a broad smile. "Apparently, Professor McGonagall wrote a very strongly worded letter to my gran about forcing me to use an unmatched wand and hampering my magical development. I haven't read it, obviously, but based on what my gran wrote to me, I suspect she questioned whether Gran was deliberately trying to sabotage my magical education. That seems to have really gotten her mad, but there wasn't anything she could use to argue against it, so she gave permission for Professor McGonagall to accompany me to Ollivander's this past Sunday."

Neville's smile turned a bit sad when he added in a quieter voice, "Gran didn't show up, though. It's like she's still refusing to admit that she did anything wrong, or that I might be better matched with a wand other than my father's."

Hermione tried to steer the conversation away from that sensitive area. "It looks like you're doing a lot better, so I guess this turned out to be a good wand for you?"

Neville's smile returned as he raised up his wand for inspection. "You bet. It's thirteen inches, cherry wood with a unicorn hair core. Few other wands in his shop resulted in any sort of reaction, and I was starting to despair at finding anything better than my father's, but Ollivander assured me that I was simply a tricky customer and that that wasn't unusual."

"That's true," Jasmine said, finally entering the conversation. "I went through dozens and dozens of wands myself before I finally found one that reacted well to me."

Neville nodded in understanding. "And when I first held this one," he continued, "it was like I was finally introduced to a missing piece of myself. When I do magic now, I can almost feel it coursing through me. All my spells are much easier. In fact, sometimes I feel like I need to hold back in order to avoid overpowering them."

When he looked up at Hermione, he could see the smirk on her face. He rolled his eyes before saying "Yeah, yeah. You told me so. You don't need to say it and rub it in."

"Say, Neville," Jasmine started to say slowly. "Since you have a new wand that's letting you cast spells so much better, would you be interested in doing some training with us?"

"You mean, the training you're doing for the tournament?" Neville asked.

"Not exactly," Jasmine said. "It's mostly for the tournament, I guess, but it's also just to be able to better handle whatever problems come my way. That's why Hermione is doing a lot of the same things — she gets caught up in what happens to me so often that she needs the extra practice, too."

Neville looked pensive for a moment, then asked, "Wouldn't I just slow you two down? I mean, considering how you're both… you know."

"I don't think so," Hermione responded with a shake of her head.

"Well," Neville said. "I'm interested, but... let me get used to using my new wand. I'm still having trouble at times."

"OK, that's fine," Jasmine replied.

When Professor McGonagall stopped by their table to check on their transfiguration work so far, she tried to subtly find out what might be wrong with the two witches; but Hermione indicated that they were handling it, whatever it was, so she didn't pry. She knew that sometimes too much help — especially when it's forced on someone — can be worse than no help at all. She had made a mistake in previous years in not being sufficiently proactive with Jasmine Potter, but she didn't want to make a new mistake in smothering the girl.

 _I'll have to ask them when we meet next on Sunday_ , she concluded. _Perhaps then they'll be ready to open up and tell me what's going on._

* * *

 **Tuesday, February 2, 1995, Afternoon.**

Potions was unusually trying that day. Unlike Malfoy, Professor Snape seemed to recognize that something was wrong with Jasmine and so took delight in singling her out for extra abuse. Had this happened the previous day, Jasmine probably wouldn't have noticed, thus inspiring the potions professor to ever greater fits of sneering rage. As it was, Jasmine did notice and did react, but only barely.

"Potter, you need to add the pickled acromantula hair **after** you take the cauldron off the fire, not before!"

"Yes, Professor," Jasmine replied in a dull monotone.

Thought you could get away with not being prepared for class, did you?"

"No, Professor."

"Arrogant, just like your father. Ten points from Gryffindor."

"Yes, Professor."

"You need to slice the toad testicles more finely. Don't hack at them like a butcher."

"Yes, Professor."

"And another five points from Gryffindor for your cheek."

"Yes, Professor."

Jasmine might have been in a mood that allowed her to mostly ignore the jibes from the Potions Master, but Hermione was seething inside. She knew Jasmine was having a bad day because of the revelations last night and the conversation they were likely to have later on that evening. She also knew that Jasmine was probably thinking a lot about the abuse she suffered at the hands of the Dursleys, thus distracting her. Getting more abuse from a professor was only making things worse, but Hermione could hardly jump up and say that in class.

Of course, if Professor Snape could behave in a professional manner, that wouldn't be necessary.

Defense Against the Dark Arts was better, but only because Professor Moody wasn't in the habit of verbally abusing his students. He had, however, gotten into the habit of watching Jasmine very closely — or at least, that's what seemed to Hermione to be happening.

It was hard to tell sometimes, what with the way his magical eye could move around, but Hermione was convinced that he was watching Jasmine more closely than he was watching any other student. _Maybe it's because someone put Jasmine in danger by getting her name into the Goblet of Fire_ , she considered, _and Dumbledore wants her watched more closely, but it's still excessively creepy. The more time that goes by, the less I trust him. It's not like we've had a lot of luck with Defense professors in the past._

Fortunately he wasn't their only source for information and spells when it came to defensive and offensive magic. In addition to the practice supervision being provided by professors Flitwick and McGonagall, there was the slightly illicit help being provided by Sirius Black.

That morning, Jasmine had received another message from her godfather. Despite the fact that the two witches felt slightly awkward around each other due to their unresolved issues, she showed it to Hermione when they were alone. Once the password had been spoken, it revealed that he wanted to meet them that Saturday in Hogsmeade again, at 10AM like last time.

Hermione hoped that he would be bringing them some useful information from the Black family library — something to help protect the hostages, information on how to protect their minds, and maybe some good offensive and defensive spells. If there was any place that they'd be able to get some old or unusual spells, it was from Sirius Black's family books.

* * *

 **Tuesday, February 2, 1995, Early Evening.**

Like Jasmine had done for her the day before, Hermione left a note on her girlfriend's bed to meet her in the Room of Requirement. It was the best place in the castle to create an appropriately relaxed and secure atmosphere.

Jasmine had admitted to a lot last night — she had revealed a lot about some demons she'd been keeping locked up inside for a long time. Hermione was going to have to be equally open and honest: not about any inner demons, but about some topics that were difficult to talk about. If Jasmine could do it, though, then Hermione was sure she could as well.

 _I must have been sorted into Gryffindor for a reason_ , she thought to herself, _so let's show some of that courage..._


	31. Body Talk

**Recommendation:** This chapter's recommended fic is "Trust" by chem prof. This short story explores how books 5 and 6 might have gone differently if Harry had simply trusted his friends a bit more. H/Hr.

* * *

 **Chapter 31 - Body Talk**

 **Tuesday, February 2, 1995, Late Evening.**

When Jasmine entered the Room of Requirement, she figured that she must look just as nervous as her girlfriend did the previous evening. "Hi — c'mon in," Hermione said, obviously trying hard to put her at ease. It was the same room as before, with a comfortable loveseat and warm fire burning in the fireplace. "Thanks for coming — we do have a few things to talk about."

When Jasmine sat down, Hermione reached out and took her hand. "I'm not mad at you, Jasmine, just so you know. I want to get that out there right away. You shouldn't have any reason to think I'd be mad at you, but I know your tendency to take the blame for everything that happens to you. Or even around you." Hermione smiled knowingly when she saw Jasmine's sheepish look.

"First, I need to make some confessions. In many ways, the situation was more my fault than yours. Well, honestly, you can't be said to have any real blame — your reaction was natural given what you've gone through. What I mean is, the problem we have has at least as much to do with me as it does with you." Jasmine was surprised to hear this, but before she could respond, Hermione continued, "So, what I did that night was something I'd been thinking about doing for a week. I made a big mistake by not saying anything when I should have. Like in so many other situations, I saw what I thought was the right end goal and jumped for it, ignoring some important steps in the middle — like talking to my partner about what she wanted." She paused, then added, "I've just been so happy with you lately that I wanted to experience... well, **more** of you, and I assumed you felt the same way."

Jasmine squeezed her hand, letting Hermione know that she was saying the right things. "Along the same lines," she continued, "I read information about Imbolc in that book by Pureheart, information that I should have shared with you. It's part of what got me thinking about what I wanted to do after the celebration."

Taking a deep breath, Hermione said, "You know that I've read more than you in that book and have been trying to fix that?"

When Jasmine nodded, Hermione pressed on, "Well, I've seen how uncomfortable you can be when sex comes up in conversation. I didn't know why, and the book has a lot about sex in it. I didn't want you to freak out by reading the more explicit sections too soon, so I've been trying to… well… ease you into it by giving you the tamest portions to read first. Maybe if I hadn't, or maybe if I'd gone faster with you..."

Jasmine's eyes narrowed on hearing that. "So what you're saying," she said dangerously, "is that you thought you knew what was best for me and just acted on it instead of asking me what I wanted?"

Hermione looked suddenly nervous. "Um... yeah, something like that..."

"Bloody hell, Hermione!" Jasmine exploded, snatching her hand away and unconsciously clenching her fist. "You **know** how much I hate that! I've got Dumbledore and every other adult in my life already treating me that way — I don't need you doing it too!"

"I know, I know, and I'm really sorry!" Hermione said hurriedly, for once having the sense not to call Jasmine out on her language. "I wasn't thinking about it in those terms, honest! I just... wanted to make things easier for you."

Jasmine had been gearing up for another righteous rant, but her burgeoning anger deflated a bit at that. Part of her still wanted to throttle her girlfriend, but she knew Hermione hadn't actually been trying to be controlling or manipulative. What she did and what Dumbledore had presumably been doing all her life were not the same thing.

She also remembered a certain conversation about house elves in which she herself had presented information in a way that would produce a favorable result in Hermione. That wasn't the same thing either, really, but she had thought at the time that it might be a little manipulative, then did it anyway because the results were worth it. Were there degrees of manipulation?

She shook her head in frustration. She didn't know the answer to that, but she knew Hermione was waiting for her... and expected to be yelled at some more, judging by the look on her face.

Jasmine sighed heavily.

"I'm **really** not happy that you did that, but I get that you were trying to help me. I guess we were bound to have problems over this issue, but at least we could have been working on them together rather than you trying to fix things and me being kept in the dark. So next time, just **talk** to me about it, OK?"

"Absolutely," Hermione agreed readily, looking relieved. "Again, I'm really sorry — I'll try to do better in the future."

"You said 'first,' which implies there's something else?" Jasmine prompted, now wondering what fresh hell might still be coming her way.

"The second issue is in some ways more difficult," Hermione said a bit apologetically, causing Jasmine to grimace. "We need to talk about sex and physical intimacy. I understand that, because of the Dursleys, you have a problem being touched in certain ways, but I'm not willing to give up on having a physical relationship with you, not this soon in our time together as a couple. I want to help you get past it because I want to have more with you, eventually; but for that to happen, we're going to have to have a blunt and honest conversation. More than one, probably."

"I… was kind of afraid of that," Jasmine responded, looking very uncomfortable again.

"You don't have to be afraid," Hermione said reassuringly. "You never have to be afraid. I won't push you beyond where you're comfortable, but you do need to be willing to accept help to get past what the Dursleys did to you."

Jasmine simply nodded, not able to speak about that yet.

"I know it's hard for you, so I'm going to start. I'll need to explain my perspective regardless, but I hope that if I go first, that will make it easier for you, OK?"

Again Jasmine nodded, feeling a bit better knowing that Hermione would start.

"As you know," Hermione said, "at some point my parents started treating me more and more like a small adult rather than as a child. This included explaining the body, physical development, and sex, which means I was treated to explanations and information that were above what's probably typical for that age. Fortunately I had already read enough on my own to be able to understand on an intellectual level, but it was still more than I could really deal with. I've come to wonder if maybe that played a role in my desire to suppress thoughts about romance: learning about sex that way just made it all seem very unpleasant."

"That sounds a little similar to me," Jasmine hesitantly suggested. "The unpleasant associations, I mean."

"In some ways, yes," Hermione replied, "though not as extreme, obviously. One big difference, though, is that included in my parents' explanation... well, explanations, really — they gave me several talks over the years as I grew. The most recent was this past summer, actually. The requirement to buy a dress got my mother talking to me about dating and boyfriends."

Jasmine nodded, remembering Hermione talking about this before the Yule Ball.

"Anyway," she continued, "in all of the discussions, there were messages about sex and physical intimacy being an important, positive part of a romantic relationship. My parents made sure I understood that physical intimacy is an important way for partners to express their love, to show their devotion, to enjoy each other, and to truly unite with one another. It seems as though I rejected romance as part of avoiding physical intimacy, but now that I'm accepting romantic love, I'm also interested in embracing physical intimacy. In your case, you've been driven away from intimate touching without any connection to the romance.

Jasmine nodded again, understanding the differences she described.

"My reading of Pureheart's book has reinforced that message," Hermione went on. "Almost everything she writes in that book has the underlying theme about sex and love being fundamental forces for life — and note that I say sex, not just love. As she explains it, physical intimacy is a very important, very positive good in the world, and it's made all the better when combined with emotional and psychological intimacy — in other words, love. She has good things to say about sex without love and love without sex, but she makes it clear that they are best when combined — and that the world is better off when more people combine them in as many ways as possible."

After waiting a bit for Jasmine to come to terms with all of that, Hermione continued, "So that in a nutshell is my view on physical intimacy, sex, love, and how they are connected. There are lots more details, but I don't want to bore you with a lecture." Now it was Jasmine's turn to smile knowingly.

"I'm not going to ask you to talk about yourself right now," Hermione said next. "I want to give you some time to think about what I just said. Soon, though, you need to start reading the more explicit passages of Pureheart's book. And soon, you'll need to start talking about your own feelings."

Jasmine nodded, then asked, "And do you think that will help me? Will that be enough for us to… well… you know?"

Hermione smiled, noting that Jasmine still wasn't able to use certain words. "I honestly don't know," she admitted, "but I can say for certain that we won't get anywhere without talking these things through. It may not be enough, but it's the best and only place to start."

"What else could there be to do?" Jasmine wondered.

"I've been having trouble with that question myself," Hermione said sadly. "I don't feel comfortable asking Professor McGonagall." Jasmine shook her head vigorously, telling Hermione that had been a good decision on her part. "Even if my parents were close by, I'm not sure how comfortable I'd be asking them; though since they're a happily married couple, I'd like to think they'd be most able to help." Hermione looked thoughtful for a moment, then shook her head. "I just don't know. I'll have to keep thinking about it."

"So now what?" Jasmine asked timidly.

Hermione pulled Jasmine into a tight hug and said, "Like I said, when you're ready, you'll have to do some reading. For now, maybe it would be good to try to work yourself past the lies the Dursleys told you. Try telling yourself, as often as you can, that touching yourself doesn't make you a freak and that being touched — at least by the right person — isn't unnatural or abnormal." Hermione paused briefly, then added, "Well, in private at least. I wouldn't recommend doing either in the Great Hall during dinner."

It started as a snort, then it turned into a giggle, then it became a full-on belly laugh, allowing both of them to release some of the tension that had built up during the evening. It was a release that both of them desperately needed.

* * *

 **Tuesday, February 2, 1995, Night.**

The recent run of good health seemed to be petering out for Tom Riddle. For a couple of days now he'd been feeling really good, but today he'd taken a turn for the worse with his previous levels of discomfort and aching starting to return.

He tried not to show it, believing that it was a bad idea to show any weakness, but his servant could tell that there was something wrong. Peter couldn't be sure what it was, but he feared that his nights of being tortured were about to make a spectacular comeback.

Nagini watched her master, completely unsurprised by the return of his pain — pain which she, too, suffered from slightly through her familiar bond with him. More and more she was thinking that bonding with him had been a bad idea, though there didn't seem to be anything she could do about it now.

* * *

 **Wednesday, February 3, 1995, Early Morning.**

Jasmine was just starting to wake up on her own when Hermione's head popped in between her bed curtains. "Jasmine!" she whispered. "Good, you're finally awake!" Knowing she wouldn't be allowed to doze now before having to get up for the day, Jasmine sat up in bed while Hermione climbed in next to her. The incident from Imbolc made Jasmine instinctively start to panic a little, but she shoved that down as hard as she could. _I will not start freaking out every time Hermione gets close to me_ , she said to herself. _I. Will. Not._

"I've got an idea about who to talk to," Hermione said excitedly as Jasmine rubbed the sleep from her eyes.

"Who?" Jasmine asked warily.

"Well," Hermione started, her excitement suddenly turning into nervousness, "I must have laid awake half the night thinking about this, considering and rejecting everyone either of us knows, which wasn't all that many people by the way, so I went through them all a couple more times, and in the end the decision was obvious because I really don't feel comfortable doing this alone, so however awkward this might feel at first, it's really the best choice for us and I think that, in the long run, well, it will certainly work out for us all, and..."

Jasmine placed her finger over Hermione's lips, ending her babbling before she started turning blue from lack of oxygen. "Hermione," she said, "just tell me. I promise I'll listen to your reasoning."

Taking a deep breath, Hermione explained, "I want to write to my parents. I won't tell them who you are or why this issue came up, though to be honest there's a good chance that they'll guess who you are since there are so few girls I know well enough."

Jasmine nodded, agreeing that that was likely. "And why do you want to ask them? Last night you were against that."

"Well," Hermione responded, "I realized that in some ways this is a medical issue as well as a psychological one." Seeing Jasmine's quizzical expression, she went on, "I realized that you must have never been given 'the talk' about sex and puberty, right?" Taking Jasmine's blush as confirmation, she said, "So that's really a medical issue, and my parents are..."

Hermione paused, gave Jasmine a strange look, then asked, "Wait, so what did you do when you started having your period?"

Jasmine blushed even harder, finally saying, "I never had it before coming to Hogwarts. Not until late in my third year, in fact, and even then it was very irregular. I didn't get my period at all last summer, thankfully. I think it's because of how little I've always eaten at the Dursleys." Jasmine was looking down at her lap, more than a bit embarrassed to have to talk about this (especially since it meant admitting that she hadn't confided in her best friend about it), so she didn't see the tears welling up in Hermione's eyes.

"Anyway," she continued, "by then I had heard enough from others talking in the dorm to have some idea of what to do, and when it happened I went to Madam Pomfrey. I acted like I knew what I was doing, so she didn't press for more information."

Hermione leaned forward to pull Jasmine into a tight hug and said, "I promise, I'll do everything I can to get you out of that place. Every time you talk about it, it just sounds worse and worse."

It was a long moment before Hermione would let her go, but eventually they did separate, and Hermione continued. "As I was saying, my parents are dentists and have medical training. That's in addition to the fact that they are a happily married couple and were able to give me very sex-positive talks about puberty and physical development as I was growing up. Also, since this is by letter, I can word it carefully, and they can take some time to write a detailed response. There won't be any stammering from embarrassment. Finally, I can ask them to send some muggle books — after having already looked all through the Hogwarts library for any books on sex, I can tell you now that there's nothing there that will help us."

Jasmine was nodding throughout this explanation, seeing that Hermione had the right of it. Although it was extremely awkward and uncomfortable to even think of her writing to her parents about this, there were too many benefits to doing so. The biggest problem would be when her parents discovered that the two of them were a couple. If they guessed the identity of the person Hermione was writing about, that would lead to some very awkward interactions. That was well in the future, however.

"OK," Jasmine finally said, "you're right. I'm not excited about it, but if you say that you need some help to help me, then I can see where your parents would be the best people to ask. Frankly, I can't imagine being happy to have this problem discussed with anyone, so it's not like I have any special objections to your parents being the ones. And at least I don't have to look them in the eye every day."

"Thanks, Jas!" Hermione almost shouted, pulling her into another tight hug, then kissing her quickly before leaving the bed.

Sighing, Jasmine flopped back down on her back, wondering if it was worth trying to doze for a bit before Hermione insisted that she finally get up. She figured she had some time since Hermione was probably going to at least start that letter to her parents. That thought brought a smile to her lips as she realized that this might help improve Hermione's relationship with her parents. With that thought in mind, Jasmine did indeed doze off.

* * *

 **Wednesday, February 3, 1995, Night.**

Because of the number of things they had taken on, Jasmine had reluctantly agreed to allow Hermione to create a rigorous schedule for them to follow. Hermione's scheduling had long been a point of good-natured disagreement between them: Hermione had always wanted a strict, full schedule whereas Jasmine wanted a schedule with a lot more free time for relaxation and to allow for shifting tasks.

That, however, only worked when there was enough open slots to have for free time, and that just wasn't the case anymore. The two girls' time was scheduled even right up to bed: every night, after homework but before sleeping, they practiced low-powered spellcasting, wandless spellcasting, and silent spellcasting. The first had long been going well, albeit without much success yet in real control. The second had been moderately successful, if very inconsistent.

It wasn't until the night of February 3rd, though, that there was any success in the last when Jasmine managed to cast a weak, silent _Lumos_ with her wand. It wasn't the most useful spell to be able to cast silently — a silent, **wandless** _Lumos_ would have been more useful, but unfortunately neither had yet managed to cast even a vocalized wandless _Lumos_ consistently. Still, it proved that one of them at least was capable of silent spellcasting — and it was Jasmine, the one who needed to be able to do it for the upcoming second task.

This sudden and unexpected success surprised Jasmine so much that she almost dropped her wand. It also inspired them both to keep trying for another half hour, though sadly without a repeat.

Before she said goodnight, Hermione decided it was time to bring up one issue that she'd been struggling not to pester Jasmine about, but she simply couldn't restrain her curiosity any longer. "Jasmine," she asked, "do you think you could tell me what that snake said to you? At Imbolc?"

She saw Jasmine wince slightly before she answered, "I already said that it wasn't much." When Hermione's expression made it clear that she wanted more than that, Jasmine reluctantly continued, "It didn't really make a lot of sense. It said I had two fates, needed a mate, needed to get over my past, and something about the world burning."

Hermione frowned for a moment, then said, "So... it was like a snake version of Professor Trelawney?"

Jasmine snickered. "Yeah, pretty much. It was really weird. It did mention overcoming my fears before facing the trials before me, which might have been a reference to this tournament. None of it seemed related to the stuff the girl was saying."

Shrugging, Hermione started to head back to her own bed. "Maybe you should write it down before you forget it all," she suggested. "If nothing else, you might find it amusing someday."

After her girlfriend was gone, Jasmine thought more carefully about what the serpent had said and realized that she hadn't actually forgotten any of it. She also had the distinct feeling that it was really important to do as Hermione said and write it down, so she summoned a quill and parchment and took care of it before finally dropping off to sleep.

* * *

 **Friday, February 5, 1995, Morning.**

Hedwig returned with the response from Hermione's parents just two days after she had sent out her letter to them. Jasmine never saw that letter, since Hermione had managed to get it written and sent off with Hedwig before Jasmine had awoken for the second time Wednesday morning; but Hermione said that she had given her mother a basic overview of the problem and asked for any advice she might have — including, if possible, any books she thought might be helpful.

Hermione was anxious to see what Hedwig had brought, but the snowy owl's burden included not just a letter, but one of the Grangers' self-shrinking boxes, and Hermione dared not open that at the breakfast table. She couldn't be sure what her mother had sent, but she was certain it wouldn't do to have it seen by everyone. This meant she and Jasmine would have to wait until their morning break.

In the meantime, Hermione decided to read her mother's letter — and during History of Magic, too. This was the second time in recent memory that Hermione had chosen to do something other than pay attention and take notes during one of Binns' lectures, a fact which Jasmine would delight in reminding Hermione about. Frequently.

Not that Jasmine could blame her, really. She herself certainly wasn't interested in Binns droning on and on about the goblin leader Kneebiter the Narcoleptic and how he tried to lead a rebellion in 1744 by creating an army of trained, ill-tempered flobberworms.

After Hermione read the letter through a couple of times, she handed it over to Jasmine — it did, after all, concern her the most.

"Dear Hermione,

I was so sorry to read about your friend. It sounds like she's had some awful experiences, and I'm sure you haven't told me everything, either. Although you don't say, I get the impression that this happened in our world? If so, please keep in mind that there are legal options for her. If her treatment was as bad as I suspect, getting the local authorities to intervene shouldn't be too hard. If she needs someplace to stay while that is being dealt with, we can offer her our guest bedroom.

As per your request, I didn't tell your father about the contents of your letter — the excuse of "girl problems" worked. I rushed out and purchased several books that I thought would help. I included a couple that are aimed at much younger age levels because I thought that since she's never been educated on these matters, it might help to start her out easy and let her work her way up. Please make sure she knows that so she doesn't imagine that I'm trying to insult her by sending her such material.

As to what advice I can give you, that's harder. Ideally this would be handled by a skilled, professional counselor who has experience with abused teen girls who have undergone some sort of sexual trauma. I understand that what she's experienced isn't the same as molestation or sexual abuse, but I suspect that some of the mental and psychological consequences might be similar. A professional counselor would know the right things to ask and how to direct the conversations.

Anyway, the most important advice I can give is for you to simply be there for her. Don't push too hard, but don't let yourself be pushed away, either. Another thing you can try is to encourage her to focus on positive thoughts. I know that might sound corny, but if her primary problem is strong negative associations with her body and with touching her body, positive thinking will play a role in shifting her attitudes into a more positive direction.

The more deeply she can get those positive thoughts to settle, the less likely she may be to have an automatic, negative reaction to certain ideas or actions. Change won't happen quickly, but your presence and support will help.

Please, let me know how it goes and if there is anything else I or your father can do.

\- Mum"

Jasmine teared up a little, thinking about how helpful and supportive Mrs. Granger was being even without knowing that it was her, Jasmine, whom Hermione was doing this for. That she would be so helpful for an anonymous stranger, simply because Hermione asked, said a lot about what sort of person she was — and it said a lot about where Hermione got her strong moral character from, too. This served to reinforce Jasmine's determination to help bridge the distance that had developed in this family.

When Hermione saw Jasmine wiping at her eyes with her sleeve, she leaned over to ask, "Jasmine, what's wrong? Are you alright?"

Sniffling a little, Jasmine answered, "I'm fine. It's just this letter — you're mum is really awesome, did you know that? She's being so nice and helpful to a stranger whose name she doesn't even know. I can see that you take after her a lot, too." Sighing, she added, "I'd like to think my mum would have been as awesome as yours. You're so lucky."

Hermione was a little taken aback by that, never having thought of her mother in quite that way. She also knew Jasmine wasn't exactly effusive in her praise for adults — Hermione didn't think she'd ever said anything like that about Mrs. Weasley, for example, and Mrs. Weasley treated Jasmine like a second daughter.

Hermione realized that perhaps she should think about that and reconsider her own feelings about her mother.

* * *

 **Friday, February 5, 1995, Late Morning.**

During the break between morning classes, Jasmine and Hermione rushed to the fourth-year girls' dormitory so they could unshrink and open the box sent by Mrs. Granger. When they did, they pulled out a half dozen books. As the letter said, a couple were clearly aimed at much younger girls, and while Jasmine expected to feel uncomfortable reading them, she agreed that it might be an easier place to start.

Surprising them both was an entire book about the biology and habits of the duck-billed platypus. "I'd completely forgotten that I'd written to my parents about this!" Hermione exclaimed. "I'll have to give it to Ginny for Luna."

The book that appealed most to Jasmine was _What's Happening to My Body? Book for Girls_ , since that seemed to be aimed at her own age group. The book that made Hermione almost squeal in excitement was _The New Our Bodies, Ourselves: Updated and Expanded for the 90s_. "Jasmine," she said, "this is a really, really good book. It's written with adults in mind, but it's not too hard for teens to understand. My mother walked me through the sections she had me read, so I can do the same for you if you have problems. Oh! And this is the most recent edition, from 1992. My mother's is from 1984. You wouldn't mind if I borrowed it when you're done, would you? I'd like to see what's new in it."

"No, Hermione, of course I don't mind. But it's awfully thick — it might take me a while to get through it."

"Don't worry," Hermione said, shaking her head, "there's a lot in here that isn't important for you right now — material on what women go through during pregnancy or when they are older." Hermione opened the book and read through the table of contents. "If you want," she added, "I can make a small mark next to the sections I think you should read now?" When Jasmine nodded, Hermione proceeded to do just that while Jasmine skimmed through the other books.

When Hermione was done, she said that she had made a single mark next to chapters that were important to read now and two marks next to chapters that were a good idea to read now, but not critical. She also pointed out that her mother included what appeared to be a photocopy of the original 1970 edition. "This edition has a more radical message, if I remember correctly," Hermione said, "Like the most recent edition, you don't need to read it all, so I'll mark which chapters are most important."

Jasmine looked at the table of contents of both editions and was happy to see that she wouldn't have too much to read in it after all, even if she read both groups that Hermione had marked. Wondering why her girlfriend was so excited, she flipped to the introduction of the 1992 edition, where she read:

"All through this book we emphasize wherever possible _what women can do_ — for ourselves, for each other — in staying healthy, healing ourselves, and working for change."

Jasmine thought that sounded really good. She like that message, and her girlfriend agreed that it was both important and empowering when Jasmine pointed it out to her. It made both of them feel a lot better about taking the time to read the book, despite all of their other commitments.

Neither witch had any idea just what sort of change those two books would create in Hogwarts over the course of the spring term.

* * *

 **Friday, February 5, 1995, Afternoon.**

Jasmine and Hermione were in an upbeat, positive mood all day because of the letter and package sent to them by Mrs. Granger. Even Snape's and Malfoy's combined efforts during their afternoon Potions class were unable to completely shake them from their good mood, though it was a near thing.

Jasmine worked at the inside station of their table, placing her closest to the Slytherin students who used the tables on the other side of the room. On occasion she and Hermione had tried to switch, but Snape never allowed it; Jasmine was convinced that he did it specifically to ensure that she was close enough for the Slytherins to most easily taunt her. Hermione, in contrast, thought that it was simply because she wanted it that Snape denied it to her.

Regardless of the reasoning, it certainly placed her in the line of fire that Friday afternoon. Malfoy had been trying to get a reaction out of her ever since the spring term had started but without any luck. She rarely even bothered to respond with the scathing, sarcastic comments that she had adopted at the end of last term, realizing that they would lose their effectiveness if she employed them too often.

Now, after a month of mere verbal taunting, Malfoy decided to up the ante by tossing something into her potion. Despite being focused on carefully and correctly chopping up her dried dragon snot, she still saw something flying through the air in her direction. Her seeker reflexes took over, and she automatically raised her hand to bat it away. Snape saw it, of course, yelling, "Potter, what do you think you're doing?" Jasmine simply looked at him with a confused expression on her face.

"Yes, I'm talking to you, Potter. Don't act like you don't understand English." He bent down to retrieve whatever it was that she had knocked from the air. Holding it up, he sneered, "This looks like a piece of pickled mandrake tongue." Taking a lick to test it, he then said, "Yes, that's exactly what it is." He then fixed Jasmine with a furious glare and said, "Trying to sabotage someone's potion, are you, Potter? Added at the right time, this would have caused someone's cauldron to explode!"

"But… but… I didn't..." Jasmine stammered, not understanding how he could make such an obvious mistake.

"No, I don't want to hear any of your pathetic excuses, Potter," he interrupted her. His lip curled as he added, "Your father also liked to endanger other students with his juvenile pranks, and I see you take after him. Well, I think it's time to break you of that. Fifty points from Gryffindor and a week of detentions with me. We'll see how funny you think dangerous pranks are after a week of scrubbing cauldrons by hand."

"But Professor Snape," Hermione tried to say.

"Quiet, Granger!" Snape snarled. "Ten points from Gryffindor for interrupting a professor. Another word from you and you'll be joining Potter in detentions." With a dramatic swirl of his cloak, he turned and once more moved around the room to help the Slytherins and berate the Gryffindors.

While Malfoy and his cronies snickered in the background, Jasmine and Hermione just gaped as they watched him walk away. "That was low even for him," they heard Neville whisper from behind them.

* * *

 **Friday, February 5, 1995, Evening.**

After she finally returned from Snape's detention of scrubbing cauldrons by hand, Jasmine started reading the books sent to her by Mrs. Granger. She may have had plenty of other things that needed to be done, but this had become a priority. Her hangups regarding touching herself and being touched by others were creating problems in her relationship with Hermione, and she was determined to overcome them.

Her determination was significantly bolstered when she realized that if she didn't do anything, she would in effect be allowing the Dursleys to not only win, but to continue ruining her life even when they weren't around. _I can't just will the problem away_ , she thought, _but there's definitely stuff I can do. I'm going to have to educate myself and start thinking positive thoughts. I don't want to be a victim for the rest of my life._

She read the books aimed at younger girls first. She'd assumed she'd probably be bored for most of it, but she was surprised at how much she learned — which just served to demonstrate how little she already knew. She was also very grateful for the easy explanations and clear illustrations. She knew that under other circumstances she'd be embarrassed and more than a bit uncomfortable, but as these books were written with younger girls in mind, they were designed to be easier to approach.

That, in turn, made it far easier for Jasmine to get started on the books aimed at her own age group. She wasn't able to finish them all, of course, but she read through a fair amount and felt that she made quite a bit of progress, too. If nothing else, she was able to read descriptions of the female body and what happens to it without blushing or fearing that she'd get punished.

To her, that was real progress indeed.


	32. If You Want Blood

**A/N:** The basic idea behind how I describe Legilimency and Occlumency was inspired by "Weary Wizard," by Yunaine. I will not be using them the same way they are used in that story, however.

 **Recommendation:** This chapter's recommended fic is "Impossible," by Belle's Noir. Harry was forced to participate in the Triwizard Tournament, but they can't make him take it seriously, can they? Or even actually compete?

* * *

 **Chapter 32 - If You Want Blood...**

 **Saturday, February 6, 1995, Early Morning.**

Hermione rolled her eyes in exasperation as she was eating breakfast. _Finally!_ she thought to herself. _Fleur is here_. She needed to set up an appointment for her and Jasmine to meet with Fleur tomorrow, and she'd begun to think that Fleur might not show up. Neither she nor Jasmine really knew her schedule, so they didn't know if she appeared for every meal or even every breakfast.

Not only was Hermione still eager to find out if the French champion had learned anything from her family about the strange events during the Imbolc celebration, but she had convinced Jasmine that it might help to learn more about how veela viewed sex, love, and intimacy. Hermione was sure that the veela perspective, which she thought might be fairly positive and open, would give Jasmine yet another beneficial viewpoint to help her overcome her problems with intimate touching.

Just then, she saw Jasmine waving her arm at someone. Looking more closely, she realized it was Luna Lovegood who was walking over. "Yes?" Luna asked in an airy sort of voice.

"Ginny told us that you two are friends," Jasmine said, "but I've noticed that you tend to eat alone. Would you like to have breakfast with us?"

Luna blinked a few times in apparent surprise and looked back and forth between Ginny, Neville, Jasmine, and Hermione. Finally, she said, "Well, okay, if you're sure?"

"Absolutely!" Ginny said as she moved sideways to give Luna some room. While the Ravenclaw sat, Ginny shot Jasmine an appreciative smile.

"Oh, I'm so glad you're here!" Hermione abruptly said. She reached into her bag and pulled out a book which she handed across the table to Luna. "My mother sent this, and I was going to give it to Ginny for you, but since you're here I can just give it to you directly. It's a book about the duck-billed platypus."

"Really?" Luna said, her voice brimming with excitement. "Ginny said that you told her this animal was real, but I thought maybe you were just trying to tease me."

"No, not at all," Hermione said sincerely. "I'm sure even more books about the platypus could be had if you wanted more proof that this isn't a prank, but that one should provide you with most of what you might want to know."

The little blonde didn't answer as she was too engrossed in her new book to pay much attention to either the people around her or her meal. Hermione wasn't offended, though, because it was something she'd often done herself — and despite the younger witch's oddness, it caused her to feel a little bit of kinship with her.

Before long, Hermione noticed that Fleur was leaving. She pulled hard on Jasmine's arm, receiving an indignant squawk because Jasmine wasn't finished eating yet, and tried to nonchalantly leave the Great Hall in such a way that she'd accidentally bump into Fleur as they exited through the doors. When she did so, she slipped a piece of parchment into the French witch's hand and kept going out of the castle with Jasmine to get a carriage to Hogsmeade.

None of the three witches involved in that little exchange realized that their actions had been watched very closely from up at the staff table by a pair of twinkling blue eyes.

* * *

 **Saturday, February 6, 1995, Morning.**

Sirius was already looking much better when Jasmine and Hermione met him for the second time in the little cave outside of Hogsmeade. He hadn't yet eaten enough to overcome more than a decade of starvation in Azkaban, but his cheeks were a little fuller and had a bit more color. His clothes were better, too, because he had found old clothing in the Black family manor that was an improvement over the even older clothing Dobby had fetched from Hogwarts.

"Alright," said Sirius as they all sat down on rocks with cushioning charms, "let's start with the simplest issue: mail redirection. The short answer is, yes, there are spells which can redirect mail from a person. They are illegal without proper authorization. They are also very difficult to undo. They were probably applied to you when you were an infant because it's easier to override an infant's underdeveloped magic. If the Headmaster did cast any of those spells on you, you'll either need to convince him to change his mind or find a way to get the Ministry to force him to undo them."

From the looks he was getting from both witches, he guessed that neither thought those options were very likely to succeed. "There is one alternative, and that's to take on a second identity that you can have mail sent to. It's not easy to do and if Dumbledore finds out — which he will if you tell many people — he could just cast the same spell again. For now, I recommend not worrying too much about that — it's a problem that we can't solve, and you have too many other things to deal with. That brings me to the second issue," at which point Sirius brought out several books.

"These are all about the mental arts — mostly Legilimency and Occlumency, but there's also some information about other, more obscure mental magical arts that you can practice." Hermione was practically bouncing in her seat as he handed the stack of books over. "I recommend you start with the one on top," he continued. "It explains meditation and other mental exercises in a very clear way. I'm pretty sure it's what I started learning from."

Sirius was happy to have gotten to a topic that put the witches in a better mood. "I think that if you practice diligently, then in a month or two you'll have good foundations established. You won't be able to block any mental attacks, but you should notice your memory and concentration improving, both of which will help you in just about everything. It will probably take another couple of months before you'll be skilled enough to be able to detect mental attacks. This all assumes spending some time every night working on meditation exercises at first, then incorporating attempts at Legilimency on each other."

"So we really have to try to read each other's minds?" Hermione asked.

"Yes, the best way to develop good Occlumency skills is to develop Legilimency skills alongside. The good news is that if you two are as close as you appear, that will go quicker than average. That said, there is a downside to working together too exclusively: you may get to the point where your magics become so attuned to each other that it will become very hard to keep each other out. Maybe impossible."

"Does that normally happen?" Jasmine asked.

"No," Sirius answered. "It's recommended that you practice with many different people. Usually this sort of thing is taught within families by experienced family members. Practicing with many different people doesn't allow that side-effect to develop. You don't have such an option, though, so you'll either have to accept it or forego the training."

It didn't take long for the girls to decide. "We'll do it," Hermione said firmly.

"Yeah," Jasmine agreed. "Having Hermione in my mind whenever she wants is a small price to pay in exchange for keeping everyone else out, especially people like Snape." After another moment, she added, "Actually, I wouldn't say that it's any price at all." She looked at Hermione and smiled as the other witch smiled back. Sirius narrowed his eyes slightly, wondering if there was more going on here than he realized.

"One more thing," Sirius added, "Don't show those books to anyone else. The Ministry frowns heavily on mental magic, especially Occlumency and Legilimency."

"Why?" Hermione asked, annoyed to find yet another subject restricted by the Ministry.

"Well, it's obvious, isn't it?" Sirius said. "People who know Occlumency can keep secrets, including from the Ministry. People who know Legilimency can discover secrets, including those the Ministry wants to keep quiet. It's also why these skills are taught to certain Ministry employees, like aurors. Otherwise, the Ministry tries to eliminate knowledge of it; but they can't move against the old families like the Blacks and Potters, who have always taught these skills to their children."

Hermione huffed at that, her faith in government and authority taking yet another blow.

"Let's move on to the tournament," Sirius said before Hermione could lose herself in the new books. "I could only find one spell that would likely be more reliable than the various tracking and monitoring charms that you already have access too; unfortunately, you won't want to use it. You almost certainly can't, in fact."

"What is it?" Jasmine asked.

"It's a blood tracking charm," Sirius explained. "Because it's blood magic, it's frowned upon by the Ministry. Only old families still use it with their heirs, both because they can afford to ignore Ministry opinion and they possess the delicate magical instruments you need to anchor the charm."

"What purpose do the instruments serve?" Hermione asked, curious about magic she hadn't heard about before. "I haven't read anything about them, and none of the other charms use them."

"They are what make this charm so much better," Sirius said, "By having an external anchor, you can't easily dispel it — in fact, it's almost impossible. To get rid of a blood tracking charm, you either need to have the device in hand or a huge amount of power to overwhelm the device's anchoring magic, especially at a distance. Once blood is drawn, put in the device, and the proper spells cast, you can use the device to track the target from almost anywhere, and it will be very unlikely that anyone will know that the target is being tracked."

"Won't the standard charms for exposing trackers work?" Hermione asked. "I was under the impression that they could detect all types of monitoring charms."

"It's because the magical instrument is doing all the work," Sirius said. "The magical residue on the target is too slight for the standard checks to perceive it. What's more, the proper charms for checking are much harder to do. Look, here's one of the standard spells that checks for most monitoring charms." Sirius stood up and did a quick wand movement that caused a soft, white glow to envelop each of the two witches.

"See, no tracking or monitoring charms on you. And that was easy to do. But here is the standard spell for checking for blood monitors." Sirius then did a very long, complex, and intricate set of wand movements which gave Hermione the soft, white glow again, but Jasmine glowed a bright, angry red.

"Uhh... what was that, Sirius?" Jasmine asked nervously as she looked at herself.

Sirius just stared at her, dumbfounded. "Let me try that again," he said, his voice betraying concern.

Once again, he went through the wand movements, but this time he seemed to do them a little more slowly and deliberately, as if he wanted to be absolutely sure he was doing it right. Once again Hermione gave off a white glow while Jasmine's was unmistakably red.

"Fuck me!" Sirius said in disbelief, slumping heavily onto his seat.

"Language!" Hermione responded automatically.

"No, you don't understand," Sirius said. "Someone has a blood tracker on Jasmine. They are using her blood to track her every movement and to monitor her health. Someone is watching her, and the magic they're using isn't entirely legal. If it's someone who means her harm, then they'll be able to find her through most wards or other means of hiding her. She isn't safe anywhere!"

"Could it be left over from something Mum and Dad did?" Jasmine asked, trying not to hope too much.

"No, they didn't have any such devices in Godric's Hollow," Sirius answered, his brows furrowed in concentration as he thought back so many years. "The Potters were an old enough family to use such magic, and they certainly would have wanted to watch over you, but they hadn't connected you to a blood tracker as of the last time I visited them. So, I'd say no."

"Who has the ability to do this?" Hermione asked, growing more worried by the minute.

"They'd have to have access to Jasmine and her blood," Sirius said. "They'd have to possess the specialized devices of an old family. They'd have to be skilled enough in magic to be able to get this all done. And they'd have to have a really good reason to track her — this isn't something a student at school would do on a whim or a dare."

"Can you tell how old the tracking is?" Jasmine asked, fear becoming evident in her voice.

Sirius thought about that for a moment, then said, "Not that I know of. Why?"

"Dumbledore," Hermione said for Jasmine. "He has had the opportunity and the motive. I'd say he's skilled enough, and I'm sure he can get access to the relevant devices, even if his own family never had any."

"Sirius," Jasmine said, wrapping her arms around herself, "how much can this sort of charm tell a person about the target's health and well-being?" Hermione blanched as the implications of this question hit her.

"It depends on the instruments used. The best will report back quite a lot, though not tiny details, like whether the person has a splinter or the sniffles," Sirius answered, then frowned. "What am I missing here?"

"Because it means that if the headmaster put this charm on Jasmine," Hermione explained as she moved to enfold her girlfriend in a hug, "then it's possible that he knew quite a bit about how she was treated at the Dursleys. He wouldn't have known everything, but he would have known a lot."

Jasmine leaned into Hermione's shoulder while it started to dawn on Sirius just how much was being kept from him. The parchments they had given him last time must have only included the barest generalities of what she had really gone through. Then he remembered that Jasmine had only endured all of that because of his own rash behavior — which of course induced a new round of rash behavior as he got up in preparation to visit Privet Drive. "Those bloody Durse..."

Jasmine surged to her feet, drew her wand, and yelled "Stop!" Sirius was so taken aback by this sudden and almost violent shift in behavior that he dropped back down into his seat without thinking.

"I lost you once when you foolishly ran off to get revenge — I won't lose you again to the same stupid mistake!" As Jasmine said this, she was joined by Hermione, who had also pulled her wand and aimed it at Sirius. "I'll deal with the Dursleys in my own way and in my own time. For now, I need you free and using the Black library and other Black family resources to help me, not chasing down muggles. Look at how much you've already accomplished for me in just a few days! That's what I need. I can't… I can't lose you again..."

Jasmine's wand started shaking; this time, both Sirius and Hermione pulled her into a hug. They stood like that for quite some time as they waited for Jasmine to calm down. All the while, both Hermione and Sirius made silent vows to do whatever was necessary to visit justice on all those responsible — the Dursleys for sure, but Headmaster Dumbledore as well if he proved culpable.

Their first priority was Jasmine, however, and Sirius was impressed with how much emotional support Hermione was showing his goddaughter. He hadn't seen that depth of friendship since his own with James, and the two of them had been brothers in all but name. It made him feel much, much better about Jasmine facing so many dangers and difficulties knowing that Hermione was by her side. As a young wizard he had felt that whenever he was with James, he could do anything, and he suspected that James' daughter was much the same with Hermione.

Eventually, once everyone had settled back down, Sirius said, "I didn't make as close of a study of these blood trackers as I could have because I was sure you wouldn't want to use them. Even if Ministry disapproval could be ignored, and even if everyone you wanted tracked agreed to it, I don't think we could get enough tracking devices to manage it. Now, though, I'll go back and look at everything again. If there is anything there that can help, I'll find it."

Eventually, once everyone had settled back down, Hermione said, "I'd like to see everything you've got on what needs to be done to remove the charms. Whatever spells that need to be used along with all wand movements and incantations."

"You're not going to get anywhere with them," Sirius cautioned. "At a bare minimum, you need the devices, and even that might not be enough. It's best done by whoever cast the charms."

Jasmine looked at Hermione quizzically, then suddenly understood and nodded in agreement. "Don't worry about that Sirius," Hermione replied. "Just get me the information. If the Headmaster has the devices we may be able to get access to them, but even if not, I've got some ideas."

Sirius wasn't convinced, but he had no reason to say no. "OK, I'll gather up whatever I can find. Oh, that reminds me — I have a list of spells for you." Sirius pulled several pieces of parchment from his robes and handed them over to Hermione. "These are all spells that pack a punch and a couple of a bit grey in nature. I've included notes on how best to use them as well as information about wand movements and incantations. I had hoped to have more for you by now, but..."

"Thank you, Sirius!" Hermione said excitedly, giving the older man a very unexpected hug.

"Get used to it, Sirius," Jasmine said as she smiled at his surprised reaction. "She's always this grateful when given access to new knowledge."

"Wish I'd known birds like you when I was younger," Sirius said with a lopsided grin that reminded Hermione disturbingly of Jasmine. "Imagine how far I could have gotten by taking them home and showing them my family library!"

"Sirius, you lech!" Jasmine said playfully. "That's my gi… my friend you're hitting on. Quit it!"

Sirius just laughed at the two of them, not seeming to notice Jasmine's near-fatal slip. They spent the remaining time with Hermione asking Sirius about his notes on the spells, in some cases having him actually cast the spells to show her what she needed.

Before they parted ways, Sirius once again promised to get everything he could about the blood trackers as well as to find more spells for Hermione.

* * *

 **Saturday, February 6, 1995, Afternoon.**

Jasmine thought that the second afternoon practicing high-level spells in the secret location Professor Flitwick had brought them to went even better than the first one. They started out reviewing the spells they had learned to date, including the ones they had previously only practiced in the Room of Requirement. In this isolated canyon, without any need to hold back, the girls discovered that the offensive spells could be even more damaging than they realized.

Once their review was finished, they moved on to new spells which Hermione had written down. After examining the list, Professor Flitwick decided to start with _Perforo_ , a perforation hex which was capable of punching a hole through a moderate shield spell and could greatly weaken stronger shields.

"Alright," he said, "I want you to stand here and cast the hex at the rock wall." After they tried a few times without success, their professor helped them adjust their wand movements to be tighter and more focused, necessary attributes for a spell that created a tight, focused effect. Soon both witches were chipping away at the wall and were even creating holes of increasing depth not long after that.

Calling a halt to their spellcasting, he walked up to the wall and used his wand to measure the depth of their most recent holes. "Very good," he announced, "some of these holes are nearly half a meter deep. I think that once you master the spell, you'll be drilling holes as deep as one or two meters, even in rock this hard."

Stepping back, he conjured two large targets. "Now, let's work on your accuracy," he said. "You have been working on that regularly with other spells, correct?" Both witches said they had and proceeded to cast the perforation hex again, though this time with a bit more care and deliberation. "Good," he said, "I see that your accuracy has improved, though it still has a ways to go. This is a good spell to practice accuracy with because its effects are so narrow. You can clip someone with a _Bombarda_ or _Confringo_ and still affect them, but a _Perforo_ either hits what you want or misses it entirely."

Turning to them, he asked, "Can you tell me the advantages of the _Perforo_ over offensive spells that have a larger area of effect?"

Hermione was the first to answer, saying, "You are more likely to go through or at least damage a shield."

"Correct, Miss Granger," Flitwick said. "Because so much power is focused into such a smaller area, it can do more concentrated damage, up to and including piercing a shield, then impacting whatever is behind it."

"You're more likely to hit a target that is hiding behind cover, like a wall?" Jasmine suggested.

"Excellent, Miss Potter," their professor replied. "Even a strong _Reducto_ or _Expulso_ might not do more than just damage someone's cover, thus at best forcing them to move. A good _Perforo_ , however, will probably go right through their cover and then through them as well. So why not use it all the time?"

"Because you might not hit your target, even after piercing their shield or cover," Hermione answered.

"Correct again, Miss Granger," he said. "It's a pity I can't give you house points." Hermione beamed at him, always pleased at being praised for her knowledge. "This is why it's a good idea to combine a _Perforo_ with another spell. If your target is shielded, cast a _Perforo,_ then something like a _Reducto,_ which can hit them after their shield is gone. If your target is behind cover, cast a few destructive spells to reduce that cover and give you a better idea of where exactly you should aim your _Perforo_."

After this, Professor Flitwick conjured some large pigs for them to learn _Lacero_ , a laceration curse which was commonly taught to aurors and hit wizards. "Unlike the simple severing charm, _Diffindo_ ," he explained to them, "this curse was designed to lacerate animate targets. I know you've managed to do this with _Diffindo_ anyway, but that's only because of your increased power. Using this you'll be able to achieve the same results or better with less power."

He then fixed them with a stern look and continued, "However, this comes at the cost of needing to visualize the appropriate physical injury. It is a slightly grey curse, like _Ossus Fragmen_ , because it has the same prerequisite: being able to visualize physical injury on a person and wanting to cause that kind of injury."

"Why is it only slightly grey, professor?" Hermione asked.

"For the most part, because the kind of injuries you're causing aren't that serious and are relatively easy to treat. In fact, you don't even need a healer to do it — any average witch or wizard can treat them right in the field, if given the time to do so."

Because of its creation for use in combat, the caster had a lot of control over how the curse was angled. Professor Flitwick demonstrated that after the small half-circle made at the beginning of the wand movement, they could angle the laceration any way they chose, depending on what angle they used when they slashed their wand outward to end the movement. This also allowed them to choose between shorter, deeper cuts or longer, shallower ones.

As with the _Ossus Fragmen,_ Jasmine and Hermione both felt a bit uncomfortable causing deep cuts and lacerations on the conjured pigs. They didn't bleed, but in some ways that was worse because it made it even easier to see the muscles and bones that were laid bare by the repeated use of the _Lacero_ spell.

Professor Flitwick then made his own contribution to their list of spells to learn: _Episkey_ , a basic healing spell designed for cuts and lacerations. Since it was equally useful on both animals and humans, they had ready-made subjects to practice on.

"What about broken bones?" Jasmine asked, thinking back to her second year and what Gilderoy Lockhart had done to her.

"Ah, good question," Flitwick said. "The best all-around spell for healing broken bones is _Ossus Emendo_." He showed them them wand movements and explained that it worked well with simple fractures and clean breaks, but it would do nothing for compound fractures or shattered bones. They once again practiced the _Ossus Fragmen_ curse on conjured pigs, but this time they followed it up with the _Ossus Emendo_ charm to heal the damage.

"Professor," Jasmine said once they were finished with the conjured pigs and had demonstrated a fair competency at casting both healing spells, "I'd like you to create cuts on our arms for us to practice with."

Hermione's eyebrows shot up at this, and Flitwick immediately launched into a refusal, saying, "Really, Miss Potter, that would be completely inappropriate. Even if I weren't one of your professors, to deliberately harm two young witches such as yourselves..."

"Please, Professor," she interrupted him, "Hermione and I have already received quite a few similar wounds in our time at Hogwarts, and we surely will again. I think we need at least a little practice in casting the spell on ourselves and on each other. I'd create the wounds myself, but I **trust** you — I know you won't do anything that's too deep or too difficult for you to heal if we can't do it."

Hermione immediately saw the wisdom in her words, though she was understandably reluctant to follow them to their logical conclusion. Flitwick, however, was a bit harder to bring around. "I don't know, Miss Potter," he responded, "I understand what you are saying, and I am more than a little flattered that you would trust me in that way. But still, the idea of causing deliberate harm to a student..." He considered for a long moment, then said, "What if I cast a numbing charm on your arms first? That will at least eliminate the pain."

Hermione brightened at that, but her hopes were dashed when Jasmine answered, "I'll admit that sounds more appealing, Professor, but isn't part of the point to practice casting this while being distracted by pain? Again, I trust that you won't do anything to us that is excessively painful. If we can put up with a stinging hex, surely we can put up with some cuts."

Flitwick's frown deepened, but finally he sighed and said, "Very well, I can see that you're determined to do this, and I suspect that if I don't, you'll later try on your own. And you're right, it will be much easier for me to control what happens than you. I just ask that you not tell Minerva about this. She'll have my hide if she finds out that I've been cutting up a pair of her lionesses." After pausing for a moment, he added, "Speaking for myself, though, I think it's unusually brave for you both to be willing to endure being wounded in order to learn like this. Few witches or wizards would tolerate it."

After conjuring a simple knife, Professor Flitwick reluctantly created cuts on the young witches' arms and legs for them to heal. Like Jasmine suspected, casting _Episkey_ on oneself or a friend was harder than it was to cast on a pig. Even the relatively minor pain caused by the cuts was distracting, and they each had to work through the spell several times before they could reach the proficiency that they had already achieved when working with the pigs.

The final offensive spell was _Deprimo_ , a curious curse that for lack of a better word "squished" a target. "In some ways this curse functions like a tripping jinx," Professor Flitwick explained, "because it knocks an opponent off their feet and forces them to the ground. Unlike the tripping jinx, however, it will keep your opponent pinned to the ground with the feeling that a great weight is crushing them. When cast with enough power, it is capable of causing serious injuries or even death."

When Jasmine and Hermione looked concerned, he hastened to reassure them by saying, "This curse is not dark or even grey because it doesn't require that you visualize such effects. You only need to visualize a general sort of pressure or compression. It's equally useful against inanimate targets, like the _Reducto_ curse. It can crush smaller objects such as a rock, or it can be used to collapse a large section of floor in a building. You just need to remember that unlike spells such as _Reducto_ or _Bombarda_ , the effects of _Deprimo_ are always vertical, going down towards the ground."

After the two witches had achieved some proficiency in casting _Deprimo_ , their professor asked, "Can you tell me the advantages of this spell? When would you want to use it instead of _Reducto_ or _Bombarda_ , both of which create similar effects?"

For once, not even Hermione could answer, so Professor Flitwick explained, "This spell can be very useful to reach someone who is behind small cover, say, furniture or a small wall. With a strong _Deprimo_ , you can crush the object they are using for cover down enough to reveal your target, allowing you to hit them if you can cast a follow-up spell quickly enough. Once you are able to control the amount of power you put into your spells, a properly cast _Deprimo_ can put a person down and cause sufficient injuries that they won't be able to get back up again, nor will they be helped by any simple healing spells; yet the injuries won't be so great that their lives will be in immediate danger. That, however, takes quite a bit of control and experience."

Before they finished for the day, Flitwick insisted that they start learning the disillusionment charm. He was willing to teach them offensive magic because he knew that they might need it, but he also wanted them to have the option of avoiding a fight by using stealth. "All other things being equal," he told them, "avoiding a fight is usually safer than charging into one, and I'd be remiss in my duties if I didn't provide you with those tools as well."

Rather than make them truly invisible the way Jasmine's cloak did, this charm created a chameleon-like effect. Because it only made them look like whatever was on the other side of them, it had serious limitations — for example, moving too quickly would create a shimmer in the air that opponents would be able to see. It also did nothing to silence one's feet or eliminate smell. More power, though, made it a lot more effective, and their professor was confident that as they learned to master it, their disillusionment would be a lot more effective than that of most wizards and witches.

All in all it was a very tiring but also very productive afternoon. They hadn't mastered the offensive spells yet and still had trouble casting them with consistent power — a single afternoon wasn't enough time for them to achieve all of that. Yet they could at least successfully cast them on a consistent basis, and they were confident that with some more practice they'd get better quickly. It was the disillusionment charm they were looking forward to using the most, knowing that it would come in handy in so many situations.

What made them especially happy was when Flitwick said that he thought they'd be able to cast even the higher-level spells without any supervision after the second task, assuming they continued to progress as they had been.

* * *

Albus Dumbledore looked around the cave with concern. When he first got the report from his tracking devices that Miss Potter was heading out of Hogsmeade, but in a direction that was away from Hogwarts, he had a sudden, irrational fear that she was running away to escape the tournament. He managed to calm himself long enough to wait and watch, finally seeing that she stopped only a little ways outside the village and remained in that place for a while before returning.

Now here he was, in the location she most likely spent her time, casting detecting charms in order to better understand what was going on. "What were you doing here in this cave, Miss Potter?" he asked himself. "Were you practicing magic?" That seemed likely. His detection charms were telling him that several powerful spells had been cast here recently, and there weren't many places to practice in private in the castle.

On the other hand, his spells couldn't tell him for sure that Miss Potter was the one who cast whatever magic had been done here. "What else might you be doing out here?" he asked. "Were you meeting someone in secret? Perhaps, but I don't think there is anyone you know who isn't already in Hogwarts that you could be meeting."

Fortunately, there wasn't any indication that any of the spells were dark, even if he couldn't tell what they were. That was one of his worries: that Jasmine Potter might eventually turn dark. There had never been any evidence of it happening, and overall he thought it unlikely, given how good her character was. However, he also knew that good people could be led down a dark path, especially if they were caught in the influence of the wrong sort of person.

That's what happened to himself when he was younger, after all, and it was why he concerned himself so much with guiding and monitoring her associations. If he could be led astray then anyone could, and he worried about her not only because she was a student in his charge, but also because he knew how much the wizarding world would need her.

Of course, there was also the small chance that the soul fragment embedded in her scar might become active. In some ways that would be worse than her turning dark, because it would be a combination of her and Tom, a witch and a wizard who were destined to be powerful equals. Fortunately that seemed even less likely than Miss Potter turning dark on her own: her mother's protection should continue to shield her — and by extension, the entire wizarding world — from the influence of the soul fragment.

The love of one mother for her child protecting not just that child, but everyone else, too... it was amazing magic that he'd yet to decipher, despite having invested long hours into research on it. It was one reason why he had come to regard love as the greatest and most powerful magic in the world.

Eventually, the headmaster had to stop — there simply wasn't any more information that could be gleaned from this site. He was tempted to erect wards and monitoring spells in case she came back, but he decided against it — that seemed like such overkill for what may not have been very important after all. He would, however, have to keep an eye on this: he was certain that she was up to something, even if he couldn't figure out what.

Regardless of what it might be, he really needed to return to the castle and get back to work.


	33. Good Vibrations

**A/N:** It's been brought to my attention that readers who are very familiar with canon might have been confused about that final scene in the last chapter. In canon, Dumbledore knew Sirius had returned and recommended that he stay in the cave outside Hogsmeade; here, Sirius returned without saying anything to Dumbledore. This will be important later, but I haven't spelled that out yet. I've edited an earlier chapter to make that clear.

 **Recommendation:** This chapter's recommended fic is "All Hallows Eve," by apAiden. Harry's been on the run for six months and comes to visit his parents' graves one last time before disappearing from the wizarding world forever. However, one witch is determined to get him to see reason — and to see what's been in front of him all along. H/Hr.

* * *

 **Chapter 33 - Good Vibrations**

 **Sunday, February 7, 1995, Morning.**

"Hermione," Jasmine said nervously as they entered the commandeered classroom, "I hope you're right about this. Are you **sure** this is a good idea?"

After she sealed and silenced the door, Hermione turned to Jasmine and said soothingly, "It'll be fine, Jas — you'll see. I seriously doubt she'll get offended at our asking. The worst she'll do is say no."

Jasmine seated herself and fidgeted a bit, thinking back to the discussion they'd had before Hermione set up this meeting.

"Jasmine," Hermione had said a bit tentatively after waking her up Saturday morning, "I had another idea about where to get help with your... you know, issues. I was thinking that it might be useful to talk to Fleur."

Yawning as she rubbed the sleep from her eyes, Jasmine said, "OK, I'll bite — how?"

"Well," Hermione said as she shifted to a more comfortable position on the bed, "we started out with me explaining my perspective, then I had you start reading some of the more explicit passages from Pureheart's book, and of course you've also been reading the books my mother sent. One thing that they all have in common is a positive message about your body — that neither the body nor physical pleasure are things to be ashamed of."

"OK..." Jasmine said, still confused.

"And from what I can tell," Hermione went on, "Veela have a similar perspective. They don't all agree on the details, but the underlying message seems to be very similar. The advantage of Fleur is that she's someone about our age who can explain such a perspective personally and even answer questions. The books can't do that."

Jasmine grinned and said, "What, Hermione Granger is touting a source of information above books? Say it isn't so!"

"Prat!" Hermione said, though with a smile as well.

Jasmine sighed then, saying, "I'm not sure that I really want to tell her about what happened to me. I know that she said she'd be willing to take an oath about our secret, and I suppose we don't have to include that, but still... that's not something that I just want to discuss with random people."

Putting her hand on Jasmine's, Hermione replied, "That's OK, and you don't necessarily need to. All we need to do is ask her general questions. We don't have to tell her why. If, after listening, you feel you want to tell her, then I'll support you. If not, then don't. I'm hoping that a conversation with her will help regardless."

Perking up a bit at that, Jasmine said, "I guess that makes sense. Asking her questions on this topic will still be a bit embarrassing, but I suppose that's something I need to deal with, too. If I can't even talk about it, I'll never be able to do anything about it."

Now that she was actually sitting in the classroom, however, Jasmine found that some of her resolve had evaporated, and she had to remind herself firmly that she needed to get past this stuff for Hermione's sake as well as her own.

Wondering where Fleur was, Hermione reached into Jasmine's bag and pulled out the Marauders Map. Upon activation, she saw that Fleur was pacing back and forth outside the door. "Oh, Merlin!" Hermione exclaimed. "I didn't even think when I silenced and sealed the door!" Jumping up, she ran over, undoing her spellwork along the way. Quickly pulling open the door, she stammered out apologies as she invited Fleur into the room. Jasmine was right behind her, offering explanations.

When the three witches got back to the table, they found it covered with special breakfast treats and drinks, many of which were French in origin. Once again, the two English witches suspected Dobby and Winky while the French witch simply assumed that the other two were exceptional hosts.

"To start with," Hermione said after they had all served themselves something to eat and drink, "I wanted to ask if you had learned anything new, either about this connection Jasmine and I share or about the strange events during the Imbolc ceremony."

Fleur hesitated for a moment, then answered, "Non, not really." When she saw how disappointed the other two were, she decided to add, "'Owever, I was told zat ze connection doesn't involve anything bad, either for you two or for anyone else. So zere eez nothing to fear." She was happy to see that this improved their mood, at least a little bit.

"Thanks, Fleur," Jasmine said, sincerely appreciative.

"The main reason we wanted to see you," Hermione said, "was to ask you... well, assuming you don't mind... to ask you about the veela views on intimacy, love, sex, and sexuality. They seem very different from the cultural norms here in magical Britain, but it sounds like they have some things in common with modern muggle society and... well, a book I've been reading."

Fleur was surprised, though she tried hard to hide it. She would never have expected to be questioned on this subject — not by these two, at least. Others frequently asked about veela and sex, but only as a means of confirming their prejudices that veela were nymphomaniacs who wielded sex-based magic (unless, of course, they were just angling for an invitation to participate). These two English witches, in contrast, seemed genuinely interested and devoid of prejudices against veela.

She also wondered how this might affect her mother's and grandmother's intentions towards them.

"Zat eez not a question zat eez answered quickly or easily," Fleur said slowly, trying to organize her thoughts. "Because physical contact and intimacy are so important to us, you are asking about something zat eez fundamental to veela culture and 'istory."

Distracted by her own thoughts, Fleur didn't notice the eager, hungry look that had settled on Hermione's face. Jasmine knew that if she didn't step in, they'd be here all week. "While a lot of that is probably really fascinating," Jasmine said, giving Hermione's shin a light kick, "we were more interested in the basics of how veela view intimacy and sex. The fundamentals, I guess." Because she was so focused on getting in front of Hermione's insatiable quest for knowledge, Jasmine didn't notice that she had been able to say that without embarrassment.

"Oui, I can do zat," Fleur said with a smile and quick nod as she focused back on the other two. Wondering briefly why Hermione was scowling at Jasmine, she began, "For veela, the ability to touch others eez essential. It eez like being able to 'ear or speak. Imagine being 'ere at 'Ogwarts, but not being able to 'ear or speak to anyone else. No communication at all with ze people you see around you."

Hermione's mouth opened in shock. "That's... I think I'd go mad if I couldn't communicate with anyone. I mean... just walking about, not being able to really interact? That's worse than being a ghost — at least ghosts can interact with others!" Jasmine looked just as horrified. Neither girl was much bothered anymore by their lack of popularity, but they always had each other and managed to hold on to a couple of friends. The idea of being completely isolated and ignored by everyone sounded like a nightmare.

"Oui," said Fleur, now with a very sad smile. "Zat eez what it eez like being a veela outside of ze veela enclaves. Among ourselves, 'olding 'ands, cuddling, and other forms of touching (zough not sex) are very much a part of our relationships with friends and family — physical intimacy eez not only reserved for romantic partners. Non-veela don't understand zis and usually interpret our attempts to connect to others as attempts to seduce zem. Zey only see intimacy and physical contact as sex, so we must learn 'ow to deny ourselves if we spend any time outside our secluded communities."

Growing concerned about their new friend, Jasmine asked, "How many other veela are here with you for the tournament?"

"None," Fleur answered. "I am ze only veela attending Beauxbatons right now. Few veela study outside our enclaves because it eez so difficult. I 'ave 'ad to work very 'ard to get used to ze isolation, and even so, ze negative effects make studying and learning especially difficult."

Jasmine and Hermione barely even looked at each other, their decision was made so quickly. Both scooted their chairs around the table and next to a surprised Fleur. When they each grasped a hand, Fleur involuntarily closed her eyes and moaned softly. Hermione smiled slightly and said, "You know, with reactions like that, it's no wonder people misunderstand veela."

Sighing, Fleur responded, "Oui, I know, but zere eez nothing I can do about it. The physical reaction to contact eez strong, especially when I have gone without for a while. It eez like 'aving been out in ze cold for so long, zen suddenly basking in ze warmth of a roaring fire. Normally, without ze contact, I feel uncomfortable, even itchy all over. Like ants crawling all over my skin. It eez very unpleasant, but I 'ave to accept it."

"Is it only physical?" Hermione asked.

"Non," Fleur answered, "our magic also reacts positively to regular physical contact. With it, our spells are a bit stronger and more effective. Regular touching and intimacy also do a lot to strengthen ze psychological, emotional, and physical bonds between us. It eez 'ow we express our love and affection for zose who are closest to us. It eez 'ow we know we are loved in return. But it eez not limited to much smaller circles of people like ze British magicals."

"So... regular physical contact makes everything better?" Jasmine asked, looking very thoughtful..

"Exactly," Fleur replied. "And zat is why such contact is integral to our magic and to ze way we live. Instead of small families in an 'ouse, we are usually two or three dozen family, friends, and lovers. Some simply cuddle and 'ug. Some are more intimate and 'ave sex with each other. It eez all different relationships, but zere eez always some level of affection, love, and intimacy among all in any 'ome. Everyone zere loves and eez loved by everyone else. And zey know it."

"So, it's never casual?" asked Hermione. "No... uh... flings or one night stands?"

Fleur's musical laughter rang through the room at that question. "Definitely not," she said, then paused to reconsider. "Well, If two veela who 'ave 'ad to live outside ze community for a while accidentally meet, zen yes, maybe something like zat would 'appen out of desperation for physical contact; but zat would be very, very rare. Normally, we build trust and affection firs,t and ze physical intimacy follows. Ze intimacy is only possible because of love, and ze pleasure, comfort, and strength we get from ze intimacy is fueled by love."

"Zis," she said, as she lifted their clasped hands off the table, "eez about as far as I would be comfortable going with ze two of you now. Even 'ugging you would feel a bit odd, despite my isolation. You 'ugging me when I transformed was an unusual situation."

"And... um..." Jasmine said, clearly uncertain about how to word her question, "is it specifically skin contact?"

"Ah, oui," Fleur replied. "Skin contact eez better. If you simply put your 'and on my shoulder, it wouldn't do nearly as much for me. Touching skin eez inherently more intimate zan touching clothing. It eez more personal. You can feel ze warmth and ze energy of ze other."

"So, it all comes down to love?" Hermione asked.

"Oui," Fleur replied with a broad, warm smile, "love eez ze critical ingredient. I do not love you, so 'olding your 'and does not 'elp me as much as it would if I were 'olding the 'and of my maman or sister. Sex with a stranger might be pleasurable, but it would not be nearly as wonderful as sex with someone I love. Sitting at 'ome, snuggling and cuddling with my closest friends, empowers and comforts me. Doing ze same with strangers would be... it would make me uncomfortable, I zink. It would not feel right, even if I desperately needed it."

After thinking for a moment, she added, "Touching and being touched by one whom you love is necessary for magic and for life; without zem, zere would be no magic in ze world and no reason to live."

Fleur wasn't sure why Hermione smiled so broadly at that last statement, or why Jasmine was looking thoughtfully down at the table. She was certain that she was missing something important, but she wasn't going to let it worry her. These reactions were similar to those the two witches had during the Imbolc ceremony, after all.

Somewhat surprisingly, they both seemed to be genuinely understanding and accepting of both her and of veela practices, which was unusual among non-veela, especially in Britain. She wondered if it was because they were both muggle-raised or if it had anything to do with the connection between them — a connection which she could tell was getting stronger.

 _I hope this bodes well for whatever Maman and Grandmere have planned_ , she thought to herself. _I wonder what book she was talking about earlier?_

* * *

 **Sunday, February 7, 1995, Afternoon.**

When Hermione and Jasmine entered Professor McGonagall's office for their Sunday meeting, the Transfiguration professor was surprised to see them move towards the chairs in front of her desk rather than the more comfortable guest chairs which they had been using for conversation and tea over the past month. "I'm sorry, Professor," Jasmine said, "but we can't stay long like we usually do, and the reason is the topic we want to talk about. Unfortunately, I think we need to do so on an official level rather than a personal one."

Minerva pursed her lips as the two younger witches sat down on the other side of her desk, and she took her own seat on her side. "Very well," she said to them in a more formal tone of voice, "Why don't you tell me what's going on."

While holding Hermione's hand, Jasmine proceeded to relate the events that had occurred during their Potions class the the previous Friday: Malfoy's attempt to sabotage her cauldron, her blocking it, and Snape's accusation that it was she who was the would-be saboteur, docking her a large number of points and giving her a week's worth of detentions.

"We're already incredibly pressed for time," Hermione added at the end of the story, "Jasmine even more so than I am. This is taking a lot of time away from our extra studies, and that's why we'll need to cut this meeting short. As much as we enjoy it and benefit from it, we're already falling behind after just two days and need to make it up."

Minerva was furious, but she wasn't quite sure whom to be most furious with. There was Severus, of course, who clearly went overboard. Then there was Albus, who had been allowing this situation to fester for years and had been preventing anyone else from stepping in to make things right. She was reflexively inclined to be upset with Miss Potter for getting into trouble yet again, but if her story was correct then it genuinely hadn't been her fault this time. Finally, there was herself because she knew that in the past she had never batted an eye at similar situations; had she made an effort to do something sooner, perhaps things wouldn't have degenerated to the point they had.

Sighing, she said, "I'm sorry to hear about this. If what you told me is correct, and there aren't any other important facts that you're unaware of, then it looks like your punishment was unjust. Unfortunately, professors aren't allowed to interfere with the punishments assigned by another professor. If I could rescind Professor Snape's punishment of you for this, then he could rescind any punishment I give Mr. Malfoy."

Neither of the younger witches was happy about that, and it showed clearly on their faces.

"I share your anger over this," Minerva said to them. "It's a good policy, but it's obviously one that is ripe for abuse. The only one who can change it is the Headmaster, and I really don't think that he will. He's also the only one who can revoke your punishment, Miss Potter, but I don't have any faith that he'd do that, either."

Jasmine sagged in her seat, obviously disappointed, while Hermione said, "No, we don't either. We're also not really surprised. We wanted to let you know about this, but we didn't have a lot of hope that you'd be able to do anything."

Minerva nodded, then said, "Well, I suppose you two should get going. If you have as much to do as you say, you shouldn't let me keep you any longer."

After the two had left, Minerva found herself to be a bit more disappointed than she would have expected. _Apparently_ , she thought, _I'd been coming to look forward to these conversations quite a bit. Perhaps opening up like I have been has been good for me? Well, I may not be able to rescind Miss Potter's punishment entirely, but that doesn't mean there's nothing that I can do..._

* * *

 **Sunday, February 7, 1995, Night.**

After finishing their new occlumency and legilimency exercises, Jasmine stopped Hermione from leaving for her own bed. "What's up?" Hermione asked.

"Uh, Hermione, do you, uh..." Jasmine stammered, "do you, you know, um, touch yourself?"

Under any other circumstances, Hermione would have blushed and run, or blushed then slapped the person and run. However, she had been half expecting such a question and trying to prepare herself for it. As awkward and embarrassing as it was, this was **not** something she could shrink from — not if she wanted to help her girlfriend get past the issues created by the Dursleys.

At this late date, it wasn't enough to simply say that this wasn't something to be ashamed of, it had to be shown by example. _Well, maybe not exactly by_ _ **example**_ , Hermione corrected herself, _we aren't that far along in our relationship! Yet. But I need to demonstrate that I'm not ashamed of it if I'm going to help her._

Taking a deep breath and screwing up her Gryffindor courage, she looked Jasmine right in the eye and said, "Yes." _Merlin_ , Hermione thought, _I don't think I'd be able to admit that to anyone else for all the gold in Gringotts. Not even to my mother!_

"Why?" Jasmine asked.

 **That** wasn't a question Hermione had prepared for, instantly leading to the aforementioned blush. Fortunately, she managed to refrain from doing a runner as well.

"Uh..." Hermione replied, suddenly sounding and feeling a whole lot less articulate than she was accustomed to.

Trying to create some emotional distance from the subject, Hermione consciously shifted over into what her friends called her "professor" mode. She thought hard about the things she'd read and learned over the years before saying, "Aside from the fact that it's enjoyable? Pleasurable?" Jasmine blushed herself now and looked away as she nodded.

"Unfortunately," Hermione continued, "getting pleasure from that sort of thing isn't always easy or automatic for everyone, especially girls." Jasmine looked back at her in surprise. "It's true. Well, it's true for some, perhaps many. It's actually helpful to, uh, well, practice by yourself because it helps your body get used to the sensations, and it helps you learn what you respond best to."

Thinking for a moment about possible analogies, she said, "In some ways, it's like music. if you never listen to any music, you'll never know what kinds you like best. You have to try it before you can learn what you do and don't enjoy. After you've had enough experience you can guess in advance, but even then, you'll still never know for sure without trying first."

Understanding started to dawn on Jasmine's face, so Hermione decided to push her luck — and Jasmine — a little bit further. "Even if you and I had never gotten together, and even if you had never found that you like girls, you'd still expect to get into a physical relationship with someone — eventually. Right?"

Jasmine nodded, looking a bit confused at this change in direction.

"So you'd want to make them happy, and they'd want to make you happy. Well, how would they know how to make you happy? They'd have a much easier time if **you** already knew what you liked."

Jasmine looked thoughtful and said, "So if I were going to… to do something for you..."

"I already know what I like and can guide you," Hermione supplied.

"And if I want you to do… to do something for me..." Jasmine continued.

"I'm going to have a much harder time if you can't guide me," Hermione finished for her. "But if you **can** guide me, then both you and I will get much, much more out of it. So you see, Jas, making yourself feel good not only isn't something you should feel ashamed about, it is in fact useful or even necessary for future relationships. It doesn't make you a freak or abnormal. Just the opposite."

Not wanting to overwhelm the auburn-haired girl, Hermione ended things quickly by leaning in, giving Jasmine a slightly longer than normal kiss, then leaving.

Later, while trying to get to sleep, Hermione realized that she couldn't hear her girlfriend. This bothered her because she could always focus in on Jasmine's breathing and tell when she was sleeping, when she was awake, and when she was having a nightmare.

Worried, Hermione grabbed her wand and got out of bed. As she approached Jasmine's curtains, she stopped when she felt something familiar. Casting a quick detection charm, she discovered that Jasmine's bed curtains had been silenced and sealed — something she never did, not even when suffering from nightmares. Hermione had made her promise not to, just so she could be sure to be there when her friend was having trouble.

Confused and upset at first, Hermione started to wonder why the curtains had been silenced and sealed. After a moment, realization started to dawn on her. Slowly and quietly, she reversed course and returned to her own bed. It didn't take long for her to fall asleep this time, smiling as she realized that everything was definitely going to be better.

* * *

In Little Hangleton, everything was definitely getting worse for the baby-sized homunculus inhabited by Tom Riddle, and it screamed in agony. There was no physical pain afflicting the wretched creature; instead, it was pain lancing through its very soul. Riddle didn't understand this, however, because he didn't value his soul except as a means for remaining tied to this physical plane of existence.

His discomfort had been growing over the past few days, but on this night the pain which tore through the remnants of his soul was the worst that he'd ever experienced.

In fact, it was worse than even he realized, because the experience was starting to be shared by the fragments of his soul which he had left scattered across Britain.

* * *

 **Monday, February 8, 1995, Morning.**

That morning, Hermione thought that Jasmine looked more refreshed and happier than she had in quite a while. Hermione thought she could detect a hint of embarrassment as well, but she had a pretty good idea of what was behind Jasmine's mood and couldn't risk embarrassing her further by interrogating her about it. No matter how much she might want to — and oh, did she want to! But she held herself in check. Barely.

Even Susan and Hannah seemed to notice the improvement in Jasmine's mood, but that might have been because Jasmine was so chatty during the practical portion of their Herbology lesson. Jasmine was usually rather quiet during Herbology in an effort to avoid attracting negative attention from either the Hufflepuff students or the Head of Hufflepuff, Professor Sprout. That had remained true even recently after they'd gotten to know Susan and Hannah better, but today Hermione thought she was seeing a new Jasmine.

Her good mood took a hit, however, when they reached Care of Magical Creatures, a class they shared with the Slytherins. Jasmine was still in the middle of her week of detentions with Professor Snape, a fact which Malfoy couldn't resist taunting her about.

"Hey, Potty," Malfoy called out before Hagrid could get the class started. "You enjoying scrubbing cauldrons every night? It's the only sort of job you're fit for, you know. Once you leave Hogwarts, a half-blood witch like you won't be able to get a job doing anything but the lowest sort of witches' work. You'll be lucky if you end up scrubbing cauldrons and toilets by hand."

While he and his cronies laughed, none of them noticed the glares they were getting from Daphne Greengrass and Tracey Davis. Not even Pansy Parkinson looked very happy with him at that moment.

* * *

 **Tuesday, February 9, 1995, Late Morning.**

Draco Malfoy usually had the good sense not to screw around during Transfiguration class — he knew that Professor McGonagall wouldn't let him get away with the things he regularly did during Potions. However, he'd recently been so happy at having been able to get the Girl Who Lived in trouble that he forgot himself.

That week they were learning the _vera verto_ spell and using it to transform small animals into water goblets. On their first attempt, Malfoy and his partner, Theodore Nott, created goblets that still had tails and legs. Instead of reversing the spell as they had been instructed to do, Malfoy sent them scuttling towards Daphne and Tracey, who were sitting in front of him.

Professor McGonagall had been watching. "Mr. Malfoy! Mr. Nott! What do you think you're doing? Twenty points from Slytherin, Mr. Nott, for not following instructions and allowing Mr. Malfoy to use your partially transfigured object." Turning to face Malfoy, she continued, "Thirty points from Slytherin for you, Mr. Malfoy, and a week of detentions."

"But… but… why?" Malfoy sputtered, his face going red with anger.

"Isn't it obvious, Mr. Malfoy?" she asked. "For not following classroom directions and for misusing a transfigured object. Now get back to work."

She turned and began to help other students in class while Malfoy just sat there stunned. A couple of students, though, looked very thoughtful and wondered what might be happening.

* * *

 **Tuesday, February 9, 1995, Lunch.**

"Minerva," came Snape's oily voice as he stood next to her seat at the head table, the opposite end of the table from where he usually took his meals. "May I sit with you during lunch? I'd like to speak with you about something."

"Yes," she replied without looking up from the copy of _Transfiguration Monthly_ that she was reading while she ate.

After he had dished out his own lunch and began to eat, he said casually to her, "I was informed that you had to take points and give detentions to Mr. Malfoy today."

"Yes," she said neutrally.

Since she didn't elaborate, he continued, "Do you not think you were a bit harsh?"

"No," she said, still just as neutrally.

An uncomfortable silence began to take hold between them. At least, it was uncomfortable for the Potions professor; Minerva continued to read and eat as if he weren't even there.

Finally, he went on, "I'd like to take over his detentions, if you don't mind."

"Oh?" she asked.

Not waiting for another silence to develop, he answered, "Yes, I can supervise him while he does extra potions work. He's good enough that some can be given to the hospital wing, thus benefiting the school."

"So," she said, finally moving beyond monosyllabic responses, "not scrubbing cauldrons by hand, then?"

Snape stiffened slightly and only then seemed to realize that they were having a conversation about a very different topic from what he had come over there to discuss.

"No," he answered carefully, "Why do you ask?"

"Well," she said while turning a page in her journal, "I'm sure that it would be very difficult to supervise both him making medical-grade potions and Miss Potter while she uses highly caustic cleaner to scrub out potentially dangerous potion residue from student cauldrons. Both require a keen eye and full attention from the adult doing the supervision. To make sure that no inadvertent mistakes are made, you know."

"Indeed," Snape said slowly. "Perhaps… perhaps if Miss Potter finished off her week of detentions with you, then I can devote sufficient attention to Mr. Malfoy."

Minerva nodded and said, "Yes, I think that will work. I'll let you inform Miss Potter and Mr. Malfoy during their Potions class this afternoon."

Snape didn't say anything, he simply gave her a short nod despite the fact that she still wasn't looking at him. No longer hungry, he stood up from the table and began to walk towards the side door out of the Great Hall when Minerva spoke again.

"And Severus," she said, finally turning towards him and fixing him with cold eyes. "That's a good idea of yours, having a student make potions for the hospital wing to benefit the school. As Deputy Headmistress, I'll be sure to talk to Poppy a few times over the next couple of weeks to find out how well Mr. Malfoy is doing under your supervision."

Once again, he simply gave her a curt nod, then turned and with a billowing cloak he stalked away, cursing Jasmine Potter and Draco Malfoy equally under his breath.

* * *

 **Tuesday, February 9, 1995, Afternoon.**

"Potter!" Snape rasped as the students gathered up their books to leave at the end of their Potions class. "The rest of your detentions will be with Professor McGonagall. Go see her at the usual time."

It wasn't just Jasmine and Hermione who looked at him with surprise — Malfoy did, too, and even had the temerity to protest. "But why?" he demanded.

"None of your business, Mr. Malfoy," Snape responded, his voice even harsher than before. "And you'll be doing your week's worth of detentions with me." At the smug look that came over the arrogant boy's face, Snape added, "Half your time will be brewing, the other half scrubbing cauldrons. By hand!"

When he noticed that the two Gryffindor witches were still there, gaping at him, he practically shouted, "Potter! Granger! What are you two still doing here? Get out!"

They didn't need to be told twice and quickly scurried out the door, which immediately slammed closed with Malfoy still inside. Hermione and Jasmine looked at the door, then looked at each other, and both stifled a laugh as they started jogging through the corridor to get to their Defense class on time.

Hermione accompanied Jasmine to detention that night, and they were both allowed to use the time to do their homework and practice transfiguration, greatly easing the pressure that had been building on them.

* * *

 **Wednesday, February 10, 1995, Night.**

Once Jasmine and Hermione started to consistently cast _Lumos_ silently, they had to move their silent casting practices to earlier in the evening and to the Room of Requirement. Casting a silent _Lumos_ in bed at night was one thing, but doing the same with spells like _Relashio_ and _Reducto_ , even if severely underpowered, would be another matter entirely.

Fortunately, once they achieved their first successful silent spell, the others came more quickly. _Relashio_ and _Reducto_ were first on their list because they could scare away or even harm opponents, though not too badly given the reduced strength of the spells when cast silently. Jasmine wasn't certain what she'd be facing, but she wanted some non-lethal options.

With only two weeks left until the second task, she finally started to get some results with both spells. She would have liked to have continued practicing until she got more consistent results, but Hermione pulled her away so they could work on their other projects.

Replacing silent spellcasting practice in bed at night was mental magics: occlumency and legilimency. Since it came right after wandless spellcasting practice, they were already a bit tired, but that didn't seem to have a negative effect on their meditation exercises. If anything it might have helped, because it was easier to let their minds become unfocused.

They hadn't yet really achieved anything with these exercises, but it was still early, and Sirius had warned them that it would take a while.

* * *

 **Friday, February 12, 1995, Night.**

Hermione and Jasmine were sitting and reading on a couch in the Gryffindor Common Room when they were approached by Lavender and Parvati. Although the four witches had shared a dormitory for three and a half years, they'd never been close — their personalities were simply too different, and their relationship had deteriorated dramatically when Lavender and Parvati announced their belief that Jasmine had cheated to get into the Triwizard Tournament.

Not once had either of them retracted their accusations, even going so far as to lump Hermione in with Jasmine in catty comments, though after the first task they had stopped repeating their accusations publicly. Jasmine and Hermione felt that they had probably recognized that they were wrong but were unable or unwilling to admit it. Relations between them had not improved in the interim.

That was why they were surprised that they were being approached in public now, though not nearly as surprised as they would be about the reason for it.

"Uh, Hermione?" Lavender asked tentatively. Parvati stood just to the side and behind her friend, both looking uncertain.

"Yes?" Hermione responded, her face an emotionless mask. Jasmine was no less unfriendly.

"Um, what's that you're reading?" Lavender asked.

Taken slightly aback at the unexpected question, she simply said, "Why?"

"Well," Parvati jumped in to say, "from what we've been able to tell from the cover, it looks really interesting, but it's not something we've ever seen before."

Now Hermione was completely befuddled — so much so, in fact, that she forgot to be cold towards them. Allowing a little emotion to creep onto her face, she closed the book over her finger to save her place and held it up, saying, "It's the most recent edition of _Our Bodies, Ourselves_. It's about women's health issues, puberty, the changes our bodies go through in puberty, pregnancy and other health issues later in life, sex, contraception, that sort of thing." Putting the book down in her lap, she looked back and forth between the two gossipy witches, openly displaying their curiosity, "Why? What's the big deal?"

"It looks like it must have a lot of useful stuff in it, yes?" Lavender asked.

Guessing that Hermione wasn't going to just keep providing information without having her own questions answered, Parvati added, "We thought that that might be what the book was about, but we've never seen any books that have so much information about that sort of thing. Our mothers only gave us really basic facts — what they thought we needed to know and no more. Madam Pomfrey doesn't give out much, either."

"And nothing really about some topics, like contraception," Lavender added.

"Oh," Hermione said, surprise and even a bit of sympathy now replacing her curiosity. "I had no idea."

She was about to describe how her mother had the previous edition and had sent her this one for Jasmine when Lavender piped up again. "Do you think we could borrow that when you're done?"

Hermione gave Jasmine a look: _Did she just ask me what I think she did?_ Jasmine's own incredulity was apparent: _Yes — the nerve of them!_ Hermione frowned and started to look more thoughtful: _But if they don't have any other source for information like this..._ Jasmine's mouth opened in surprise: _Seriously? You'd just give it to THEM?_ Hermione gave her girlfriend a chiding look: _Some things transcend arguments and personal grudges._ Jasmine slumped a bit in her seat but gestured to Hermione to get on with it.

Turning to Lavender, Hermione handed over the book and said cooly, "Actually, I was just rereading a section. Technically it's Jasmine's book, though I got it for her. Here, you can read it. Just be sure to give it back when you're done."

Suddenly she added, "Oh, wait," startling the other two witches as she reached into her bag and pulled something else out. "This is an earlier edition of the same book. The material isn't all the same, and the older edition has some very interesting stuff that was excluded from the newer one. Try to keep them together, OK?"

The eyes of both of the other Gryffindor witches lit up in happiness at all of this. While Lavender reached out and accepted the books, Parvati stepped forward slightly to say, "Thank you, we appreciate it. And, uh, we're both sorry. You know, for everything." Then both of them disappeared up to the fourth-year girls' dorm.

Hermione and Jasmine looked at each other, equal parts confused, stunned, and amused. "That was… different," Hermione observed.

"And a little surreal," Jasmine added.

"Do you think that qualifies as an apology?" Hermione asked, clearly not sure herself how that question should be answered.

"Not really," Jasmine responded slowly, "but at the same time, I really don't think we'll get anything better."

"So, should we let bygones be bygones?" Hermione asked next.

"No," Jasmine said firmly, "but we can treat them a little more civilly. We'll see how it goes."

"OK," Hermione responded as she reached into her bag for another book. "I can do that."

Neither of them had the slightest idea how much would change because of the Hogwarts Gossip Queens getting their hands on those muggle books.


	34. Every Rose Has Its Thorn

**Recommendation** : This chapter's recommended fic is "Harry Potter and the Girl Who Lived" by Agnostics Puppet. Harry finds himself transported to an alternate reality where he meets Rose Potter, the Girl Who Lived, and commits himself to helping her survive the trials which took so much from him.

* * *

 **Chapter 34 - Every Rose Has Its Thorn**

 **Saturday, February 13, 1995, Morning.**

With only eleven days to go before the second task, Hermione and Jasmine finally got a chance to practice the dangerous spells which they had received from Sirius Black. While none of them were likely to be useful for the task itself, Jasmine didn't want to put off starting on spells that might save her life in a fight.

They also couldn't tell their charms professor exactly where they had gotten these spells. Based on his reaction, they got the impression that at least some of them couldn't be found even in the Hogwarts Restricted Section, which wasn't terribly surprising.

Professor Flitwick frowned as he addressed the two young witches, "Some of these spells I have no problem teaching you — they take power and skill, but other than that there isn't any harm in learning and using them. The others, though..." He trailed off as he held up the parchment where Hermione had written down the spells.

His brow furrowed as he continued, "They aren't quite dark magic, but they are a bit darker than the other grey spells you've learned so far." He looked back and forth between them before asking, "Are you sure about this? They may not be considered impermissible, but they are usually only learned by witches and wizards who have a lot more experience and maturity than you two."

Hermione and Jasmine looked at each other briefly before turning back to their professor. "Yes, we're sure," Hermione said.

"We don't intend to use the darker spells as part of a standard attack or defense," Jasmine explained, "but we wanted to have a few serious offensive options in case we found ourselves in an especially desperate situation."

"So," Flitwick summarized for them, "spells of last resort?"

"More or less," Jasmine answered. "I don't know that I'd wait until the very last minute before using them, but I also wouldn't start out with them, either." Hermione nodded her agreement.

Flitwick sighed, then said, "That's reasonable. As unpleasant as some of these spells are, it's worth having them in your arsenal if they can save your lives. Let's get started with the simpler ones."

Curiously, the simpler spells also happened to be the darker ones. First they learned _Ossus Diffringo_ , the bone shattering curse. It was easier to cast if one already knew _Ossus Fragmen_ , but it was darker because it required one to visualize and intend much more serious injuries. A bone snapped by the bone breaking curse could be easily healed, even sometimes right there in the field; but shattered bones needed to be tended by a trained healer, usually with skelegrow potion. The curse also tended to cause internal injuries that needed to be treated.

"Tell me," their professor asked once they proved capable of casting it against conjured pigs, "when would you choose to use bone shattering over bone breaking and vice versa?"

"The bone breaking curse will put down an opponent," Hermione answered, trying to focus on the intellectual issue rather than the echoes of shattering bones that were still rolling through her mind. "But they are still capable of casting spells and even of being healed somewhat quickly, so I'd cast it if I am able to follow it up with other ways of disarming or incapacitating them."

"Especially if they are the only opponent," Jasmine added. "Or if you need to stop someone, but not necessarily hurt them badly — like if maybe they are more of a threat to themselves than to others?"

Hermione nodded, then continued, "But the bone shattering should be used if I need to put them down hard enough that they stay down and thus not be a danger to me or others."

"And if we're willing to accept that they will be severely injured and possibly killed if they don't get to a healer fast enough," said Jasmine.

"Correct on all counts," Flitwick said. "The bone shattering curse is not an option you should reach to lightly, but use of the bone breaking curse will leave you vulnerable if you're not careful. It comes down to whether you're willing to risk yourself and those you're with, or if you'll risk the opponent who is attacking you."

After that, their professor showed them how to cast _Discerpo_ , a darker severing curse than _Diffindo_ or even _Lacero_. "The darker nature of this curse can be seen in its name," Flitwick explained. "It comes from a Latin verb which means to mutilate or tear." That was demonstrated quite vividly when it was cast on the conjured pigs — the horrible gashes in their bodies were even worse than the shattered bones that the witches had caused earlier. Like with the _Lacero_ curse, they had the ability to control the angle of the wound as well as the depth or length.

"As you can see," Flitwick explained after they learned how to cast it reliably, even if not with very consistent power, "the wounds created by this are much worse than those created by your overpowered _Diffindo_ or even your _Lacero_. Whereas those other spells make clean, straight cuts that can be healed again smoothly, this curse rips jagged, chunky holes in the flesh that will not easily seal. The others could be treated by most witches or wizards, but these wounds would be very hard to seal by anyone without healer training, and there would be extensive scarring. What's more, anything severed with such a curse almost certainly won't be able to be reattached or regrown."

"So it's like _Ossus Diffringo_ ," Hermione said. "You put your opponent at much greater risk if you use it, but if you use less nasty cutting curses, you're taking greater risk on yourself and your allies?"

"Exactly," Flitwick replied, pleased to see how well they were understanding the issues. "If you're sure you can stop someone with a weaker curse or hex, then this is massive overkill and really shouldn't be used. If you're not, though, then you have to weigh the risks of using it versus not using it. Unfortunately, you'll probably only have a fraction of a second in which to make your decision."

Next was _Contundo_ , a slightly darker variation on _Reducto_ and _Bombarda_. "Often called the demolishing curse," Flitwick explained after showing them how it worked, "it does more damage than lighter spells, especially against bodies, and can more easily pass through or shatter shields. It's not nearly as dark as the other two you learned today, though, because it doesn't require the caster to visualize any specific injuries to cast it. However, it's much more effective against bodies and bones **if** you also try to visualize the relevant impact injuries."

Once those darker spells had been learned, Professor Flitwick moved on to the high-power lighter spells which Hermione had written down. The first was something completely new to them: _Sagittas Profundo_. "This spell requires more skill and power than witches your age typically have," Flitwick explained, "because it essentially conjures physical arrows, and conjuration is a NEWT-level skill. However, it's an easier form of conjuration than most others."

Their first attempts weren't particularly encouraging: Hermione could only produce partial arrows, while Jasmine's were distinctly deformed. Of course, none of what they conjured flew very far, much less made it all the way to the targets they were aiming at. Smiling, Flitwick said, "That's actually very good for beginners — I expected you to get nothing at all." He then showed them how to improve their wand movements and pronunciation in small, subtle ways that eventually enabled them to successfully conjure arrows, though only one or two at a time rather than the stream of arrows which the spell allowed for once mastered.

"You will get better as you practice it, and fortunately it's something you can do during your regular practice sessions at Hogwarts. Before we move on, though, I'd like to tell you about a variation on this spell which might prove useful. It has the same wand movements, but if you add " _Argentas,_ " you'll be casting a stream of silver arrows instead of regular wooden ones."

"For fighting against werewolves and vampires!" Hermione exclaimed.

"Precisely, Miss Granger," Flitwick responded. "However, conjuring silver like that takes a lot more power than conjuring wood, and wooden arrows may stop a vampire if your aim is good enough. I'd recommend only using this when being attacked by werewolves."

Hermione and Jasmine then learned that _Sagittas Argentas Profundo_ was indeed much harder than just _Sagittas Profundo_. After a bit, they felt lucky to get even a single silver arrow to fly, and of course it was hopelessly inaccurate. Their professor wasn't surprised, however, and told them that as they progressed with the regular arrow spell, their skill with this one would improve as well.

The last spell was the biggest of them all, _Terra Motus_. "Commonly known as 'earth mover' or 'earthquake,' this spell can do a large amount of damage to people and property all around you," Flitwick explained. "Unlike most spells, this one almost requires that you be able to accurately control how much power you use and how long you cast the spell for, so I don't expect either of you to do very well with it for a while yet."

After numerous attempts, neither Jasmine nor Hermione could get much more than the barest shudder out of the rock directly under them. However, both of them were sure that they could feel the power coursing through their arms and wands before traveling into the earth, so they were hopeful that they'd master it eventually.

"Under what conditions do you think it would be appropriate to cast a spell such as this?" Flitwick asked them.

"When you're surrounded and outnumbered," Jasmine said almost immediately.

"When you're not going to get caught by the spell's side effects," Hermione added.

"What do you mean, Miss Granger?" prodded Flitwick.

"Well, this spell can be a danger to you," Hermione answered. "In the middle of a city, a building could fall on you. Or a tree, if you're in the woods. Even a cave-in, if you're underground. So I wouldn't cast it if I weren't standing more or less out in the open."

"That also means my allies need to be very close to me," Jasmine added. "Ideally, at any rate."

"Correct," their professor said. "This spell affects a large area around the caster, and it cannot distinguish between friend and foe: all within its range will be equally affected. The spell itself will not directly harm anyone, but it will make your immediate environment potentially dangerous and difficult to move through. It's entirely possible that you will use a lot of power to do little more than disorient and topple your opponents; however, those seconds while they're down may mean the difference between survival and death."

He paused to think for a moment, then added, "I suppose that if someone were to push enough power into this, they might be able to take the effect to the point where fissures open in the ground. At the extreme, one might perhaps even be able to cause magma to rise up. Such extreme effects are unlikely, however, even for the two of you — and they'd pose as much danger to you as they would to any opponents."

Both witches nodded in understanding. As powerful as this spell was, it wouldn't allow them to defeat their opponents, but it could give them a chance to get into a better position to fight… or perhaps to simply flee.

* * *

When all three arrived back via floo in Minerva McGonagall's office, Jasmine turned to Professor Flitwick and asked, "Professor, I keep meaning to ask you something, but I always forget. Do you know much about veela?"

Not having expected such a question, he had to stop for a moment to think before answering. "Well, I know what's in most basic descriptions that you find in texts about magical creatures and beings. However, I don't think I've ever known or been in the presence of any veela. Well, before this year that is. Why do you ask?"

"Oh, we've gotten to know Fleur Delacour, the French Champion," Hermione explained. "She said she could detect some sort of connection between us even back when she first arrived here at Hogwarts, which was well before we, er, well, became a couple."

"Also," Jasmine added, "her mother and grandmother apparently know more about this 'connection' of ours than Fleur has been able to explain. Either they won't tell her, or they have but she's under oath. It's annoying, and we've been hoping that knowing more about veela might help us understand what they are talking about."

Flitwick nodded and said, "Yes, I can see how that would be frustrating. Unfortunately, I don't have any special knowledge of their people that might help."

"Is there any chance that whatever she senses is connected to whatever it is that you two know but can't tell us?" Hermione asked.

"It's certainly possible," Minerva responded carefully, "but I have no way of knowing for sure. And if I did know, I might not be able to tell you that."

"Frustrating is beginning to sound more and more like an understatement," Jasmine grumbled as she walked out.

Hermione smiled apologetically and said, "Thanks for all your time and help, Professor Flitwick. Oh, and don't forget that tomorrow is Valentine's Day, Professor McGonagall, so we won't be here. Bye, Professors!" And with that, she left as well.

Professors Flitwick and McGonagall shared a long look before the latter said, "I'd be shocked if they weren't the exact same thing, rather than merely connected."

"Oh, I quite agree," Flitwick said as he sat down to begin telling her what they had done that morning, though in the back of his mind he kept thinking about what he'd just learned and why veela would be so interested in those two witches.

* * *

 **Saturday, February 13, 1995, Night.**

Once again, Hermione Granger was lying in bed, unable to get to sleep. Over the past several weeks she had discovered that it was getting easier to cast the darker spells that she and Jasmine had been practicing so extensively. Not that she didn't still shudder a bit at the sight of gaping wounds in her targets, or when she thought of the distinctive sound of snapping bone. Still, the regular repetition had dulled those reactions and made her instinctive empathy with her target easier to ignore.

On the one hand, it was a relief to be spared that kind of visceral horror at the damage she was causing (though she knew the fact that the conjured pigs couldn't feel pain helped a lot). She also took pride in her developing magical skill, just as she always did, and the challenge of mastering a difficult spell made it easier to focus on the process rather than the outcome.

Still... now she was beginning to wonder if it might not eventually become **too** easy to cast these spells without a second thought. Flitwick's warning about heading down a dark path still troubled her, and the more she hardened herself to the effects of these spells, the less her own tendency for compassion would protect her from that fate.

 _There's just no pleasing some people,_ she thought ruefully. _I hate how these spells make me feel, but now I'm worried about_ _ **not**_ _feeling so awful anymore. Is there a middle ground here somewhere?_

When she did eventually fall into an exhausted sleep, it was only to be visited with dreams of being hounded by Death Eaters, dreams in which no spell she knew — no matter how dark, no matter how many times she cast it — could stop their relentless pursuit.

* * *

 **Sunday, February 14, 1995, Morning.**

Neville Longbottom had no idea how he got talked into these things. Granted, it was for the sake of friends, but sometimes he wondered if he wasn't being taken advantage of.

Jasmine and Hermione wanted to spend Valentine's Day together, which was fine with him. Two witches together might still feel a little weird, but he could at least understand the desire to spend a day like this with each other. And of course, they didn't want rumors to start about them, so they decided to let people to think that they might be spending the day with Neville and Ginny instead.

Neville couldn't disagree with that, but it meant being cooped up here in their commandeered training room all day while Hermione and Jasmine spent the day together in the Room of Requirement. It could be worse, but frankly he'd rather be on a comfortable couch in the common room or even in the library. There was work that could be done in the greenhouses, too. Well, at least he had Ginny for company, and they did say that he could ask Dobby to get him anything he needed...

Now **there** was a good idea.

"Hey, uh, Dobby?" Neville asked uncertainly.

Dobby appeared with a pop and said, "Yes, Missy Jazzy's Nevvy?"

A snort from the other side of the table reminded Neville that he wasn't alone. "Yes, Dobby — uh, these chairs won't be comfortable for the entire day. Is there any way you could get a decent couch for us that isn't being used?"

"Oh, yes, Dobby can do!" and with a pop, the little house elf was gone. A few minutes later, he reappeared with another pop and brought with him a large, elegant couch upholstered in plush green fabric.

"Wow, that's a nice couch, Dobby," Ginny said as she got up and sat down in it. "Comfy, too. Where'd it come from?"

"Dobby be getting couch from nasty snakey room," the elf said happily.

Neville froze halfway through the motion of sitting on the couch."Uh, do you mean the Slytherin common room?"

Dobby nodded his head vigorously, causing his large, bat-like ears to flop around.

"But I said to get a couch that no one was using!" Neville protested as he dropped heavily the rest of the way onto his new seat.

"Yes, and no little snakeys be using couch when Dobby be fetching!" Dobby said enthusiastically.

Ginny laughed and said, "He's got you there, **Nevvy**! Might as well enjoy it!"

Neville grumbled at this new nickname but got up, gathered his books, and sat down next to Ginny, bouncing a little in the seat. "You're right," he said, "this is comfortable. Better even than our couches in Gryffindor." Suddenly Neville started squirming in discomfort. Reaching under him, he started fishing around until he came up with a very expensive looking wristwatch. "Huh," Neville said, "I wonder whose this is."

* * *

Down in the dungeons, Draco Malfoy stormed into the common room, saying, "Has anyone seen my watch? My father gave that to me! I know I had it earlier when I was sitting..." He looked blankly at the big open space where a large couch might fit.

"Who took our couch!?" Malfoy shouted in bewilderment

* * *

 **Sunday, February 14, 1995, Evening.**

Both Hermione and Jasmine could agree that Valentine's Day had been a truly glorious day for them. Despite having loads of work to do, both for classes and for their extracurricular projects, they had committed themselves to doing as little as possible on this date — and what they did do, they did together as they spent the entire day in the Room of Requirement.

The morning was spent relaxing in Hermione's Hot Tub Grotto. Some of that time was just spent enjoying the warm water, some was spent debating possible strategies for the second task, and a whole lot was spent with Jasmine sitting in Hermione's lap while they snogged. Hermione was careful to reign in her wandering hands, but with Jasmine sitting in her lap, clad in a two-piece swimsuit, it was very difficult for her.

For lunch, Winky and Dobby provided an amazing array of dishes, most of which seemed to be French in origin. The Room also transformed itself into what looked like an apartment in Paris — an apartment with a large balcony that had an amazing view of Paris, to be specific. Hermione praised it as the most romantic lunch setting she'd ever heard of while Jasmine started wondering what had gotten into their elves, because neither of the two witches had asked for anything of the kind.

Not that Jasmine was going to complain, of course, because regardless of why the elves were doing this, it was clear that they were making Hermione very happy. And when Hermione was happy, Jasmine was happy — even when she didn't quite know what was going on.

After lunch, they spent the bulk of the afternoon getting caught up on homework, though because they were working in private Hermione was able to offer Jasmine a number of "rewards" for getting things done correctly and efficiently. Jasmine had never done a better or faster job on her homework in all the time she'd been at Hogwarts thus far. Hermione made a mental note to make her new system a permanent feature of their study sessions, provided they could get away and work in private.

Once dinner time arrived, the elves outdid themselves again. It was, if possible, even more romantic than the dinner which Jasmine and Dobby had set up for New Year's Eve, though the setting of the table, dance floor, and loveseat were all repeated. Jasmine had never had oysters before and wondered why the elves served them — and in three different dishes, too — but Hermione had had oysters before with her parents and explained how to eat them. Jasmine wasn't impressed, especially with the ones accompanied by a spicy avocado dip.

She really needed to find time to talk to those elves...

The dessert, though, won approval from both of them. The thick, creamy, dark chocolate mousse was sinfully delicious, though Jasmine thought it was odd that the elves only gave them one dessert and two spoons. Hermione didn't seem to mind — quite the opposite, in fact, so Jasmine didn't bother complaining.

Dinner was followed by dancing, which was followed by a bit of snogging on the couch. Before things could get too far, though, Hermione paused and said, "Something I've been meaning to ask... You know those plans I originally had for after Imbolc? Well..." she hesitated, then pressed on in a rush, "I was wondering if tonight might not be a good time to try again? Only if you want to, I mean."

Jasmine looked at her girlfriend then, and even though Hermione was obviously trying to keep her voice neutral, she couldn't miss the hope in her eyes. Jasmine felt a twinge of apprehension rise up, but only a twinge, and she stuffed it back down as usual. "Yes," she finally said softly, "I think that might be doable."

The shy smile that accompanied her answer made Hermione almost glow with happiness.

Not long thereafter, they had to get changed and meet up with Neville and Ginny before heading back to the Common Room, thus giving the impression that the four had been together all day.

Once ensconced in their dorm, Hermione snuck out of her bed while under Jasmine's invisibility cloak, sealed her own bed curtains, then slipped into Jasmine's bed. After taking off the cloak, she gave her auburn-haired girlfriend a questioning look. Jasmine's only response was to remove her bathrobe to reveal a lacy nightgown that Hermione had convinced her to purchase before Christmas at Gossypamer & Organza's.

Smiling, Hermione crawled up the bed so that she was on her hands and knees above Jasmine and began kissing her, starting back at her ears and gradually working her way along her jaw until reaching her lips. As Jasmine wrapped her arms about Hermione, the bushy-haired witch lifted one hand and placed it on Jasmine's waist. Like before, she moved her hand up Jasmine's abdomen, though more slowly this time, giving Jasmine a chance to either get used to it or to object.

When Hermione reached her destination. Jasmine stiffened slightly and Hermione stopped moving, but it only took a couple of seconds before Jasmine relaxed again and pulled Hermione more tightly against her, giving her girlfriend tacit permission to continue with what she was doing. And that's exactly what Hermione did, causing her to come to the conclusion that touching another girl's chest and giving her that kind of pleasure, even through a silk nightgown, was in some ways more brilliant than doing it to herself.

Both witches were far, far too distracted by what their lips were doing, and especially by what Hermione's right hand was doing, to notice the pale, glowing lights that grew outward from their chests. Where the green and blue tendrils met, they entwined together and merged into a soft white; then gradually the blended light extended backwards and started shifting the colors at the source.

At the same time, a very small, black shadow began emanating from Jasmine's scar.

Before that process could go very far, however, Jasmine and Hermione stopped. Breathing heavily, they pulled back a bit so they could look into each other's eyes. Although neither was ready to say the words, both could see the love, devotion, and pleasure the other was feeling.

* * *

In Little Hangleton, Peter Pettigrew lay in one of the bedrooms of the abandoned manor house, drooling into the dirty carpet. He'd fallen into this state several hours ago after an especially long session of the _Cruciatus_ curse from his master. Peter probably would have fallen into catatonia much sooner if it hadn't been for the fact that Voldemort's _Cruciatus_ curse had been weakening steadily over the past weeks.

Voldemort himself was currently unconscious in his bassinet. He had tortured Peter for hours because he'd been enduring terrible pain that was lasting much longer than usual. It had started in the morning and continued through most of the day. Once Peter was catatonic, there was nothing Voldemort could do but scream until his throat was raw and his voice little more than a rasp.

Then, just when he thought it couldn't get any worse, a blinding flash of agony stabbed him in the head and he passed out.

* * *

In a rundown old shack near the Riddle Manor in Little Hangleton, an old ring with an even older stone mounted on it lying hidden under the floorboards quivered and convulsed several times before finally stilling.

* * *

In #12 Grimmauld Place, a house elf named Kreacher stood in the sitting room, quietly watching a gold locket. A few minutes previously it had started vibrating, and he was certain that it was in pain, though he couldn't figure out how a piece of jewelry could experience pain or how he could know such a thing.

"Something's wrong with Master Regulus' locket," Kreacher muttered to himself. "Kreacher didn't follow Master Regulus' last instructions, now locket is starting to do things." He looked up to the ceiling, thinking about the person who had recently moved in and was currently asleep. "Maybe bad master Sirius is to blame. Oh, what is poor Kreacher to do?"

Slowly, the decrepit house elf backed away, hoping that Sirius would soon leave so everything could go back to normal.

* * *

In the Come and Go Room of Hogwarts, several house elves abandoned their search of the room of hidden things. They'd received a report of dark magic here, but while there were several dark items hidden in amongst the junk, none of them were currently active or giving off detectable levels of power.

Pappy, the oldest and therefore top elf in Hogwarts, decided that nothing could be done at that time, but if it happened again he'd have to look into setting a rotating watch on the room so they could catch whatever was creating the danger.

* * *

In Gringotts, a team of goblins stood outside the Lestrange vault holding a number of odd magical devices. While the guard dragon was kept back via the clankers, the other goblins walked around the outside of the vault, waving the devices around in an attempt to get information.

"Report!" called out a new goblin who had just arrived.

"Vault Master Ripsaw, we've been unable to detect anything. No new readings and no indication of what might have set off our alarms earlier," said the goblin who was in charge of the team examining the vault door and surrounding area.

"Do you still think that the dark magic alarm was caused by something inside this vault, Nailtooth?" the Vault Master asked, putting a bit of menace in his voice.

"Yes, sir," Nailtooth said, neither showing fear nor backing down. "Aside from the fact that the Lestranges are a dark family, there's simply nothing else around here that could possibly have set off that alarm." Ripsaw didn't look convinced, but then Nailtooth added, "Also, sir, I had our records checked carefully, and exactly one week ago, we got a very small hit on our dark magic detectors. It wasn't big enough to cause the alarms to go off, but it was enough to register."

"And where was this dark magic?" Ripsaw asked, his curiosity now aroused.

"Unfortunately, sir, the hit wasn't big enough to locate it precisely," Nailtooth admitted, "but it was in this general area."

Ripsaw nodded and said, "Very good work. Good initiative. There are several vaults down here, but it's too much of a coincidence to pretend that the two hits aren't related. Unfortunately, this still isn't enough for us to invoke clause #492 of the treaty of 1755, allowing us to enter the vault for an inspection."

"There is one option," Nailtooth offered.

"Oh?" Ripsaw asked, even more curious now.

"We can set up dark magic detectors right outside this vault," Nailtooth said. "The problem is, that dragon over there will probably end up stepping on a few and knocking over others with her tail."

"So we'd have to remove her if we wanted to install the detectors," Ripsaw said, seeing where his subordinate was going. "That's a creative suggestion. Unfortunately, moving a guard dragon isn't something either of us can authorize. Given the current evidence, I doubt anyone higher up will want to. However, I will forward the idea — if this happens again, I suspect their minds will change. And I'll be sure to attach your name to the suggestion, too. Good work!"

Nailtooth stood a bit straighter and said, "Yes, sir! Thank you, sir!" All the other goblins on his team looked at each other and smiled. If Nailtooth got a promotion out of this, he'd take them with him, giving them all more money and prestige. It paid — sometimes literally — to find a good supervisor and work closely with them.

* * *

In the headmaster's office of Hogwarts, Albus Dumbledore's brow was furrowed in concentration. He had received two conflicting reports from the castle's wards, and he couldn't figure out how to reconcile them. On the one hand there had been a burst of dark magical energy from an unspecified location. Normally this would be worrying, but it was a relatively small burst. According to Pappy, the elves had been unable to locate the source.

Not long prior to that there had been a larger burst of raw magical energy, also from an unspecified location. In a magical school there were always bursts of magic, but the strength of this was a bit more than the wards normally recorded. What was more, this wasn't the first time that a burst of similar energy had occurred, but the previous ones had all been too small to be brought to his attention. It was only after he did a search of the records that he found the reports.

This was a conundrum. Apparently, something in the castle was giving off bursts of raw magical energy that were growing in strength. There was also either a second source of magical energy, this one dark, or the first source was responsible for both reports. _It's possible they could be completely separate_ , he mused to himself, _but it's not a coincidence that I'm willing to trust._

Uncontrolled magical energy could be dangerous, especially to children. _But what can I do?_ he asked himself. _The wards can't pinpoint the location, so I can't tailor my response that way. I can only do something that involves the entire castle, like a school-wide search. That would be difficult to defend regardless of the circumstances, never mind when we have two foreign schools visiting. On the other hand, the presence of so many guests might make it easier to justify...maybe just a security precaution... I'll have to ponder this._

The Headmaster leaned back in his chair, popped a sherbet lemon in his mouth, and started thinking about how he might be able to explain a search of the entire school.

* * *

On the coast of England, in a hidden sea cave filled with inferi and protected by dark magic, nothing happened at all.


	35. Got Me Under Pressure

**A/N:** One difference between this story and canon which I don't think I've made clear is that Nagini is not a horcrux at this time. I honestly think that Voldemort would have waited until he had a full body before using such difficult and dangerous magic. So right now, she is just an intelligent familiar, though perhaps with a fairly strong familiar bond.

 **Recommendation** : This chapter's recommended fic is "Something Like Your Family" by Luan Mao. McGonagall tells the first years that their house will be like their family. Well, Harry's experience with "family" doesn't give him a reason to expect or hope for much... and he certainly isn't disappointed. Dark/tragic story.

* * *

 **Chapter 35 - Got Me Under Pressure**

 **Monday, February 15, 1995, Morning.**

Voldemort groaned as he returned to consciousness and tried to take stock of his tiny body. _Nothing is missing, nothing burned or withered away, but everything aches! As bad as these past few months have been, last night was some of the worst pain We've ever felt._

As he opened his eyes, he could see that it was now morning and was thankful that he had survived... whatever it was that had hit him. _Something is definitely wrong with this body_ , he concluded. _The question is, will it last long enough? Is it worth putting up with the near-constant discomfort and regular bouts of pain until the proper time for the ritual, or do We change plans and do something else?_

He couldn't see a clock from his bassinet, and he didn't dare use the magic necessary to cast a _Tempus_ spell, but he was sure that it was nearly time for his potion. Probably past time. "Nagini," he croaked out and heard his familiar move somewhere in the room. "Get... Wormtail."

* * *

Nagini slithered into the room that the rat-man was allowed to use and immediately saw that rousing him wouldn't be an easy task. She was seriously starting to wish that she hadn't bonded with this master.

As she moved around the drooling lump, she could tell that her master had tortured his servant well past the breaking point last night. Not that she could blame him — she, too, had suffered from whatever had afflicted her master, and she had also wished for something to bite. She had even been tempted to bite the rat-man, just to get a little relief, but dared not.

Now, though? Maybe just a little taste, to see if it gets him moving...

* * *

 **Monday, February 15, 1995, Evening.**

With nine days to go before the second task, the champions were again gathered together to discuss strategy if hostages were taken.

"Alright," Jasmine said, taking the lead this time instead of Hermione, "how does everyone stand with regards to hostages? Hermione, Neville, and Ginny are the most likely hostages for me, and they've all written home asking for letters denying them permission to take part in the tournament. What about the rest of you?"

"Cho is the one most likely to be taken as my hostage," Cedric said, "but I haven't been able to convince her yet of just how serious this is. She definitely doesn't want to hide in the Chamber of Secrets." He sighed with exasperation before saying, "I'll keep working on her, though."

"I 'ave not been able to make many friends," Fleur said next, "but I 'ave asked ze two students closest to me to ask for such letters from 'ome because neither wants to 'ide. Zey, too, are waiting for replies."

"I can say the same," Viktor reported next. "I have three close friends who came to Hogwarts vith me, none of whom vish to go into hiding. Two already have such letters and the third is vaiting."

"Good," Jasmine said. "It sounds like we're doing well there. Hermione has parchment for each of you with the tracking charms we all considered best when we met last time." At this, Hermione pulled out some parchment and handed a piece to each champion. "We're hoping that the letters will prevent them from being taken, but you can use this charm on them and anything important that they'd always keep with them, like a bracelet, just in case."

The other champions all nodded in agreement and thanked Hermione for the information about the charm.

"So if the hostages are taken care of," Jasmine continued, "or at least as much as we can, that just leaves strategy. How does everyone plan on travelling through the water? Based on Neville's advice and research, I placed an order for gillyweed and I'm still waiting for it to arrive."

Cedric groaned, "Ugh, that would be so much better than the bubblehead charm I intended to use!"

"Oui," Fleur agreed, "Ze bubblehead charm distorts what we 'ear and see underwater. How much will you 'ave?"

"Sorry," Jasmine said with genuine regret, "but I ordered it well before we all started working together. I'm only getting enough to use in the task plus a little to practice with. There won't be enough for all of us, and there's no time to order more."

"No worries," Cedric said as he waved away Jasmine's apology. "We should have thought of it ourselves. The bubblehead charm will still work, it's just less than ideal. How about you, Viktor?"

"I vill be doing self-transfiguration," the Durmstrang champion replied as the others gasped. "I vill transfigure myself into a shark."

"Wow," Hermione said, clearly impressed, "that's really complex magic. How long have you been practicing?"

"Since shortly after ve got the eggs," he responded. "So far I only have my head transfigured, and I don't know if I vill achieve full transfiguration before the task begins. But I should have at least half my body done."

Hermione looked thoughtful for a moment, then said, "We can work with this. I assume that your sense of smell underwater is radically heightened like a real shark's?"

"Ja," Viktor said with a scowl, "and the Black Lake does not smell pleasant."

"Good," Hermione said. When Viktor aimed his scowl at her, she quickly added, "I mean, it's good that your sense of smell is so strong, not that the lake smells so bad! That sense of smell, and your growing understanding of how the lake should smell, could prove invaluable. Fleur and Cedric will only be average swimmers because the bubblehead charm does nothing for that. Jasmine should be a very fast swimmer because of the changes to her hands and feet, though not as fast as Viktor, even if he only gets half of his transfiguration done."

"And 'ow does zat help us?" Fleur asked.

"We all know where the merpeople's village is," Hermione explained. "Assuming that's where the hostages are, there's less of a need to hunt. On her own, Jasmine had planned to swim near the surface then dive when she got above the village. There will be more light and fewer obstacles on that route."

"I like that idea," Cedric said while the others nodded.

"So why don't you all do that. Viktor, you can swim the deepest — even as a partial shark, you'll scare away most things that might be interested in any of you. This will keep those above you safer. Also, with your extra speed, you'll have time to loop around periodically to make sure nothing's coming from any direction."

"That sounds like a good idea," Viktor said.

"Cedric and Fleur will be the slowest," Hermione continued, "so you two should go in the middle. Jasmine can swim at the top of the formation, nearest the surface. She can keep an eye on you two and get to either of you quickly if you run into any trouble."

When the two older champions looked like they were going to object, Hermione hastened to add, "This isn't because you're weaker or anything. It's simply that she will be able to move faster. Whoever is at the top will be able to see everyone else and they will need to move fast to help, if help is needed. Viktor will certainly be faster than her, but his fierce looks and sense of smell will be more useful farther down."

This seemed to mollify them, if only barely. "Then when we get above the village," Viktor said, "I guess I should dive down first?"

Hermione nodded, then said, "I think that makes sense, and for the same reasons as having you swim the deepest on the way to the village. We don't know how the hostages will be kept. They'll be in a room, or cage, or something like that I'm guessing..."

"Let Viktor swim around and above ze hostages to watch for new problems," Fleur chimed in to say. "Cedric, Jasmine, and I will either all release zem, or split up ze jobs of releasing and protecting against attack. If necessary, two can fight while ze third frees ze hostages."

Hermione nodded, saying "That sounds good. You'll need to be flexible since you never know what you'll encounter, But with Viktor in front, Cedric and Fleur in the middle, and Jasmine in the back ready to rush in to help whomever is in trouble, you should be able to tackle any obstacles."

"Ja," Viktor said, "There is a lot of flexibility in that formation. On the Bulgarian Quidditch Team, ve use a similar formation with me in front, two chasers behind, and the third chaser with the quaffle in back. In front, I break up the defenses while the chasers decide how to arrange themselves to get the quaffle into one of the hoops."

"The one thing we'll have trouble with," Cedric said, "is learning how to work together properly. We won't have time to train together to work as a team. If we do end up doing this together, though, we can't act like we would if we were doing it alone. I'll have to force myself to watch only my side, for example, and trust that Fleur will watch hers while Jasmine watches our backs. I won't be as effective if I give in to the temptation to look in every direction like I would if I were alone."

The other champions all looked thoughtful at this, realizing that this was a complication they'd have to spend a bit of time considering.

"I need to tell you all something," Fleur said, "which will affect 'ow we work. As a Veela, doing anything underwater, especially anything magical, eez particularly difficult for me. Veela are creatures of air and fire, not of water and cold. My unique Veela abilities will be suppressed, and my magic will be weaker. I will not be completely incapacitated, but I will be slower and weaker zan I would be on land or in ze air."

"Did that help you with the first task?" Cedric asked.

"Oui, a bit," Fleur said, "but not as much as you might zink, since I did not use either air or fire as part of my strategy. But I zink ze dragon saw me as slightly less of a threat."

"Will you be able to hold the bubblehead charm long enough?" Hermione asked, worry obvious in her voice.

"Oui, I believe so," Fleur answered.

"The rest of us can keep an eye on you," Cedric said, "Well, mostly Jasmine and I will, since Viktor will have most of his attention directed outward towards possible incoming threats." The Durmstrang champion nodded at that. "Think of a signal for us that you're in trouble," Cedric continued, "and one of us can come over to reapply the charm or do whatever else is needed."

"Zank you," Fleur said, relief and appreciation evident her eyes.

"That means you'll all have to make sure you can cast the bubblehead charm silently," Neville interjected. "Especially you, Jasmine, even though you don't intend to use it for yourself."

Jasmine nodded and said, "Actually, we should have a standard signal for any of us who runs into trouble — say, just waving our hand back and forth over our head. There's not much we can do and still be obvious."

"What about casting a bright light spell?" Viktor asked.

"If we have to fight, we'll be casting spells anyway, and we can't afford to look every time another one of us casts," Cedric said.

"Ja, of course," Viktor replied with a nod.

Hermione started to think about this problem and realized that any magical in a fight had a problem with communication. Muggles could use tiny microphones and earphones, but those wouldn't work in a heavily magical environment. She wondered if there were any magical equivalents or if something could be created, so she wrote herself a note to research that later.

"OK," Jasmine said, "we've dealt with the hostages as well as we can and we have a strategy. I guess all that's left is to gather together the day of the task and find out what's going to happen..."

"Actually," Hermione interrupted, "I have two more things. First, I was going to work with Jasmine next Saturday on spells she intends to use under the lake. You're all invited to come, too. It might be helpful if you were all familiar with what spells the others would be using."

Everyone agreed with that — seeing unfamiliar spells being cast in that kind of environment could cause confusion.

"Good," Hermione said. "The last thing is a bit odd, but it is important. Do any of you have a copy of the tournament rules? Have you even seen them?"

Viktor, Fleur, and Cedric were all surprised at those questions, then even more surprised when they realized that they couldn't give a positive answer to either one of them.

"No," Cedric said, "but wouldn't there be a copy in our library?"

"Unfortunately," Jasmine answered, "there isn't. And we haven't been able to locate one. We even asked the Headmaster for a copy back at the beginning of November, but he hasn't given one to us."

"I am sure zat Madame Maxine 'as read ze rules," Fleur said slowly, "but I 'ave not. Now zat I zink about it, I am not sure why not."

Viktor shook his head and said, "I have not seen anything about any rules, but you are right that ve should have. I vill ask Headmaster Karkaroff as soon as I can."

"Oui," Fleur added, "and I will do ze same."

"Thanks," Jasmine said. "I think we could all benefit from knowing more about what we are and are not allowed to do as champions in this tournament."

* * *

 **Wednesday, February 17, 1995, Evening.**

Working in the Room of Requirement, Hermione and Jasmine were focused on expanding their repertoire of spells they could cast silently. Their immediate goal was to be able to cast a silent _Diffindo_ , though they hoped that once they were successful with that, it wouldn't be long before they could cast the more powerful _Lacero_ silently as well.

With both spells, they also wanted Jasmine to be able to cast it in a long, wide arc to hit as many targets as possible and with enough force to do at least some damage. They knew that this could be critical when facing a large number of opponents at once, as Jasmine was likely to have to do in the Black Lake just a week from today. They knew, for example, that the grindylows tended to roam and hunt in packs.

" _Diffindo!_ " Jasmine whispered, her voice only barely audible. She'd been slowly working on both goals at once: gradually decreasing the volume of her voice while also taking longer swipes with her wand, thus lengthening the arc of her cutting spell. Unfortunately, both actions decreased the force of the spell when it struck a target, so she had to work hard at every stage until she got the spell back up to sufficient strength that it accomplished anything.

"Any luck yet?" she asked Hermione.

"Not yet," Hermione answered, clearly starting to feel tired from the use of so much magic. If they continued too much longer, Jasmine realized, they might not be able to do their wandless casting practice in bed later before going to sleep.

Now more determined than ever, Jasmine closed her eyes and focused as much as she could on visualizing the idea of cutting, then clamped her lips together as she slashed her wand. **Zip!** went the cloth as it was cut from the large bolt hanging above it and fell to the ground.

"I did it!" Jasmine cried, punching the air.

"That's great, Jas!" Hermione congratulated her. "Did you do anything different?"

"I think so," Jasmine answered. "Before casting it, I focused hard on just the idea of cutting — no specific cuts or targets, just cutting. It's not exactly a concrete thought, so it's hard to explain how to visualize it, but I must have managed because I was able to cast it — and in a fairly wide arc, too."

Hermione looked at the results of the spell and nodded, convinced that that was the way to proceed. Jasmine watched her close her eyes for a few moments, just as she herself had done, then open them and cast a silent _Diffindo_.

"You did it!" Jasmine said happily, grabbing Hermione in a hug and spinning her around. Even at their normal power, _Diffindo_ was not an insignificant charm, and the ability to cast it silently could prove incredibly useful.

"OK," Hermione said, "let's do this a few more times just to establish that the first wasn't a fluke, then we move on to _Lacero_ , right?"

"Right," Jasmine agreed. After a dozen more silent castings of _Diffindo_ , the two witches moved on to _Lacero_. As expected, they found that it wasn't too hard to cast it silently since they could already do so with a very similar spell.

By the end of the practice session, they could cast both silently and in either short or wide arcs. They knew they'd get better with practice, but for now these results were good enough for Jasmine's immediate needs.

* * *

 **Thursday, February 18, 1995, Evening.**

Ginny Weasley sat alone at a table in the Gryffindor common room, books and parchment sitting untouched in front of her. Usually she'd be studying either with her fourth-year friends or with her third-year classmates. The former were all in the library working with their twice-weekly study group, and she was ignoring the latter because she really needed some time by herself to think.

Her problem, quite simply, was that she had discovered that she was a bit more uncomfortable with Jasmine and Hermione being a couple than she had expected to be. She still liked both of them and still wanted to be their friend. In fact, this desire had nothing to do either with the witch's debt she owed Jasmine or the oath she gave... at least, she didn't think it did. Magic could be unpredictable and do funny things, but she was confident that her desire to be friends with them was from the heart rather than magically induced.

She also didn't think that they should be punished in any way for being a couple. She didn't think that they should be denied jobs, lose all their friends, or be expelled from their families. However, she hadn't yet been able to get past how uncomfortable their displays of affection made her. She hadn't seen them do anything explicit, but even just the hugs, hand-holding, and occasional small kisses could be enough to make her shiver... and not in a good way, that was for sure.

Most of the time, in her head she thought that there was nothing wrong with Jasmine and Hermione being a couple. They were already such close friends, what did it matter? How was it any of her business? Other times, especially when she witnessed the more obvious signs of their romantic connection, she was inclined to regard such relationships as wrong, unnatural, and contrary to the social order. When she thought about being with another witch in that way, she just felt ill and couldn't understand how any witch could do such things with another witch. Doing them with a wizard was more natural — it just made more sense.

 _I know that such ideas come from my mum and the witches' magazines she reads_ , Ginny thought, _but that doesn't mean those ideas are wrong, does it? But are they wrong? And why do I keep waffling back and forth like this?_

 _It would be so much easier if they just kept their feelings — and hands — to themselves, then I wouldn't have to deal with this, and they could go on as normal. I already know they're a couple, so why do they feel the need to flaunt it in front of me?_

 _I have no idea what I'm going to do, and there isn't anyone I can go to to ask for advice._ Sighing, she opened up her Transfiguration text in the hope that maybe she could still get a little work done on her essay.

* * *

 **Friday, February 19, 1995, Afternoon.**

Senior Branch Supervisor Earchewer sat deep in thought as he considered the new documents that had been delivered to him early that morning.

He hadn't been surprised when the Gatekeeper had returned his report with explicit instructions to monitor the situation and only file a second report when something new and significant had developed. Well, something new had indeed come up, and "significant" hardly sufficed to described what he was looking at. He never would have bet even a single bronze knut that the Veela, of all people, would have taken such an explicit and intense interest in two young English witches who hadn't even completed their OWLs. The Veela were notoriously secretive and insular; as far as Earchewer knew, they didn't take much of an interest in anyone, though to be fair he had never worked in France or in any of the other countries on the continent where Veela had their largest enclaves.

Still, this seemed to him to be a remarkable development. It would be even more interesting, he was sure, if he could find out more about this Delacour family. He'd put in a request for background information before lunch, but it came back marked "Denied" with a notation about a security classification he hadn't even heard of, much less possessed himself. He didn't know what they did or what kind of intelligence the Goblin Nation had on them, but it was sure to make this new information about their personal involvement with the two witches shoot right to the top of someone's priority list.

It wouldn't be his list, though. He'd be praised for having a source of information inside Hogwarts, and he might even get a nice bonus for passing along such valuable material; once he did pass it along, though, that would be the end of his involvement. It would be someone else's problem, thank the Great Goddess. This was something he didn't want to get too deeply involved in.

He would, however, send down word to the rest of the branch's staff to ensure that those two witches were treated well whenever they came in next. Unless he received instructions to the contrary, Earchewer figured that it would be best if they were handled with a bit more respect than normal. Anyone who attracts that kind of high-level, positive attention from the Veela probably merited it, and he had already approved their use of the special testing area, though an oath prevented him from learning how that was going. _Better safe than sorry_ , he concluded.

After he had collected all of the relevant material and sealed it inside a special Gringotts pouch for later delivery, he returned to the more mundane work that usually filled up his day, noting that it had seldom seemed more appealing.

* * *

 **Friday, February 19, 1995, Evening.**

As it turned out, casting spells silently underwater was a different matter from casting them silently in the open air. Jasmine had assumed they'd be more or less the same, which would explain why she was so frustrated during her attempts to cast silent spells while submerged in the pool in the Room of Requirement.

Jasmine knew it was selfish, but a small part of her was glad that Hermione was having just as much trouble as she was, despite the fact that her girlfriend had a lot more experience with being in water. _Misery loves company, I guess..._

"Jasmine!" Hermione called out when she broke the surface of the water after having failed for the umpteenth time to cast any spells while submerged. Jasmine was sitting at the edge of the pool, trying to think about what their problem could be and what to do about it. Not being able to cast any spells while under water would be a sure ticket to failing the second task — and possibly losing hostages, which would be far worse.

"What's wrong, Jasmine?" Hermione asked as she dog-paddled over to the side where her girlfriend was sitting.

"I think we must be missing something," Jasmine responded with a frown. "I won't claim that we should be instantly fantastic when casting underwater, but we should have had some better results by now."

Hermione pulled herself up out of the pool so she could sit next to her fellow Gryffindor and said, "I suppose you might be right." After a moment's thought, she continued, "Do you think that it's the act of holding our breath? Maybe it's distracting us or something?"

Rolling her eyes, Jasmine said, "Of course, I don't know why I didn't think of it before! I mean, even if that isn't the reason, using the bubblehead charm while doing this would make so much more sense because we wouldn't have to keep coming up for air!"

"Oh, Merlin," Hermione groaned, "That's so obvious! I'll never live that down!"

Grinning, Jasmine said, "I won't tell if you don't."

"Deal," Hermione replied fervently.

Both witches applied bubblehead charms to themselves and returned to the water. Fortunately their growing power meant that their charms lasted quite a bit longer than they did when they first tried casting them. Once again, they failed to cast the spells silently, but only at first. Soon, they were able to cast weakened spells against the reinforced wall on the deep end of the pool.

After about twenty minutes of practice, they both reemerged from the water and once again sat on the side of the pool. "Well, that went better," Jasmine observed.

"Agreed," Hermione responded as she adjusted the bathing cap which protected her bushy hair, "though I did notice that our spells were still weaker than they usually are, even when cast silently."

"I noticed it too," Jasmine said. "Could it be the water itself?"

Hermione nodded and said, "I think it must be. Water causes sound to travel more slowly, we move more slowly in it, and it refracts light, too. It only makes sense if water interferes with spells, perhaps absorbing some of the energy as it travels."

"Refracts?" Jasmine asked.

"Changes direction," Hermione answered, "It's something you'd study in muggle physics." She then took her wand and inserted it halfway into the water. "Notice how my wand doesn't look straight?" she asked. When Jasmine nodded, Hermione continued, "That's light being refracted by the water. The wand hasn't actually been bent, but the light bouncing off of the wand and back towards your eyes is being shifted by the water."

After thinking about that for a moment, Jasmine asked, "Then why doesn't that happen to our spells? They have light, or maybe are light, or something."

"Because it only happens when the light moves into or out of water," Hermione explained. "As long as the spells stay in the water, you're fine."

With that bit of good news, the two witches returned to their spellcasting practice.

* * *

 **Saturday, February 20, 1995, Morning.**

Albus Dumbledore sat looking at his desk and despaired. He needed hostages for the second task of the Triwizard Tournament, which was now just four days away, but his plans for whom to pick might have been derailed. It had been made abundantly clear to him that if anyone was picked to be a hostage, their parents or guardians needed to give permission. In principle, Dumbledore understood that, but actually putting it into practice would be horribly inconvenient, to say the least. The magic of the tournament required him to produce hostages — what if all of those important to a champion said no?

Unfortunately for him, his very first attempt went pear-shaped rather quickly. He thought he had been polite to Mr. Chang, the father of Cho Chang, but the man was absolutely incensed that anyone would endanger his daughter like that, and all for what he called a stupid school competition. Dumbledore tried to placate the man, explaining that there was no real danger, but he refused to listen and angrily insisted that if Dumbledore wanted to endanger someone for the sake of Cedric Diggory's desire for glory, then he should...

 _Now that's actually not a bad idea_ , Dumbledore mused, only now giving Mr. Chang's sarcastic suggestion serious consideration. _He probably had no expectation that I'd actually follow his advice, but as it turns out it's better advice than he could have imagined!_

Smiling now at his clever reversal of his bad fortune, he leaned forward to make a note and moved on to the next name: Fleur Delacour. _I may not know Veela very well_ , he thought, _but from what I do know, there's only one choice. What's more, it's not really my job to contact any parents or guardians in this case. I'll leave it to Madame Maxime, but I'll subtly suggest that she is acting as in loco parentis for the hostage and therefore has the authority to make such a decision on her own. That will make things go faster._

With two down and two to go, Dumbledore's mood just kept improving. Third on his list was Viktor Krum. Perhaps there was a Durmstrang student here who would serve, but it was easiest to simply use his Yule Ball date, Miss Granger. _If they were close enough to go to the Ball together, then they are close enough for her to still qualify as his hostage_ , Dumbledore concluded. _So, no change there_. Karkaroff had agreed readily enough to use Miss Granger, despite her muggle heritage.

Finally he turned to Jasmine Potter. Ideally he'd use Neville Longbottom, though he still wasn't sure how he felt about the possibility that this might enhance their romantic relationship. He hadn't decided whether that pairing would be good or bad in the long run. However, he was pretty sure that Madam Augusta Longbottom wouldn't give permission for Neville to participate, and there was no way he'd try to use the boy without talking to her first. Tracking down Gellert and dueling him one-on-one on a desolate battlefield in continental Europe was one thing, but crossing Augusta Longbottom on a matter of family safety was quite another. He liked all his bits and parts where they were and in one piece, thank you very much.

Fortunately there were a couple of other possibilities for hostages for Miss Potter… not many, because of how she'd been ostracized in the school, but a few. It was a pity that it was better for her in the long run to learn to endure the popular opposition like that. Right now, though, he just needed one student whose guardians could be convinced to give permission, or whose guardians could be ignored because they lacked sufficient political or economic clout to make life difficult for him, thus ensuring that he fulfilled the obligations that had been magically imposed on him by the Tournament.

 _Ah_ , he said to himself, _I could always choose… but then I'd have to… yes, I think I can make that work._


	36. Who Wrote the Book?

**A/N:** The next chapter heralds the arrival of the long-awaited second task, yet if anything, this current chapter may be even more pivotal for later developments in the story. Stay tuned...

 **A/N 2:** I always enjoy seeing what sorts of thoughts different chapters provoke, and can I just say: wow, so much hate for Dumbledore! I didn't expect anyone to like him, but I've been trying hard to provide plausible, non-horrible reasons for his actions. Poor as his choices may be, I had thought he'd get a little more sympathy. I'm glad people are enjoying the story despite him, at least.

 **Recommendation:** This chapter's recommended fic is "Banking on Her" by robst. Tired of constantly being put in danger, Harry plans on using the Triwizard Tournament to make his escape from the wizarding world. Unfortunately, he didn't know about a hidden cost that would take away from him the only thing about Hogwarts that he really cares about: Hermione. H/Hr.

* * *

 **Chapter 36 - Who Wrote the Book?**

 **Saturday, February 20, 1995, Afternoon.**

Four days before the second task of the Triwizard Tournament, the four champions gathered one final time to compare what spells they could cast as part of any joint effort to rescue hostages from the bottom of the Black Lake. Having cleared a space in the commandeered classroom to practice in, the four champions discussed the best spells and what they each specialized in.

"Since I 'ave an affinity for fire as a veela," Fleur started, "zose are my best spells. But zey won't be very useful underwater."

"What about _Relashio_?" Hermione asked. "It creates a jet of sparks, which are related to fire, and we've established that it will work underwater."

Fleur's eyes brightened as she said, "Oui! Zat is an excellent idea! Merci!"

All four champions spent a few minutes practicing _Relashio_ to ensure that they could cast it silently. Mindful of her instructions regarding the prophecy, Fleur tried to keep an eye on Jasmine in between her own spellcasting. _Despite only being in her fourth year, Jasmine's spells are remarkably powerful_ , she thought. _She's_ _easily as strong as the rest of us and perhaps a bit stronger._

After a brief discussion, they all agreed that some form of cutting charm or curse would be useful. They also agreed on the use of banishing and summoning charms as there were a number of situations in which they could come in handy. Jasmine hadn't practiced either silently because she had been more focused on combat spells, but the glint in Hermione's eyes left no one in doubt that Jasmine would be proficient at them before they all entered the lake. _The more time I spend with those two_ , Fleur thought, _the more obvious it is that Hermione is the driving force behind what both of them learn._

The last spell they all practiced was _Reducto_ , which they agreed would serve as an all-purpose offensive spell. It wouldn't easily kill, especially when cast silently, but it would injure and thus dissuade most opponents from continuing to attack them. This at least was one spell which Jasmine had down pat. She was so happy to be back on familiar ground that she forgot to refrain from overpowering her spells, which made it very obvious to Fleur that Jasmine's _Reducto_ curses were indeed stronger than those of the others, even when cast silently.

After spell practice was done, Jasmine asked, "Has anyone gotten ahold of the tournament rules yet?"

"Non," Fleur responded. "Madame Maxime says she saw them when ze original agreement was made, but not since, and ze rules were returned with ze signed contract."

Viktor nodded and said, "That is pretty much vat Headmaster Karkaroff told me. He said he thought it strange, but since he didn't see anything in the rules that seemed problematic, he wasn't vorried."

"I asked Professor Sprout," Cedric said, "and she said the Headmaster assured her that there wasn't anything to worry about in them. I pointed out that this is a dangerous competition and I'm obligated to stay with it, so shouldn't I get to read the rules myself? She seemed a bit surprised that she hadn't thought of that and promised to look into it."

"Thanks for trying," Jasmine said, "but I doubt any of us will be allowed to see a copy of the rules that we're obligated to follow. And that bothers me." The others looked similarly disturbed.

Before they all split up again, Viktor handed out newly annotated copies of the map which Hermione had previously distributed. Thanks to his heightened sense of smell as a shark, he was able to denote areas of the lake where merpeople, grindylows, and other creatures spent most of their time.

All that remained now were their private, last-minute preparations before the task.

* * *

 **Saturday, February 20, 1995, Night.**

"Oh, Hermione," Jasmine said just as they were preparing to end their late practice session on mind magics and wandless spell casting. Both skills were coming along nicely — or at least, the wandless definitely was, since they were casting wandlessly with much greater consistency. They couldn't be sure about the mind magics because while they were starting to see some success in reading each others' emotions, they had no idea if that was contributing towards their ability to prevent their minds from being attacked.

"Hmm?" Hermione looked up expectantly.

"I forgot to mention," Jasmine continued, "I saw something odd on the Map earlier today when we were setting up for the other champions. You know how we haven't seen Barty Crouch around for a while, and Ginny told us that Percy has been taking his place?"

"Yeah, he was boasting in his letter about a promotion or something, right?"

"Exactly," Jasmine said. "Well, I saw Crouch in Moody's private quarters. Moody was there, too, though he wasn't moving. Only Crouch was moving around."

"That is odd," Hermione said with a frown.

"Yeah," Jasmine agreed, shrugging. "I didn't know what to make of it, but I thought I'd mention it." With that, she leaned forward to give her bushy-haired girlfriend a long, lingering kiss. Ever since Valentine's Day, she'd been much more assertive in showing affection than she had been before. She still got a bit tense sometimes, and she knew she wasn't completely over what the Dursleys had done to her, but she also knew that she was doing better — and that was due in no small measure to the efforts and patience of Hermione.

Once the kiss was over, Hermione gave her girlfriend a seductive smile before exiting through the bed curtains. Deciding to get a quick drink of water before going to sleep, she noticed that each of the other girls' beds were unusually quiet as she passed by them. On a whim, she checked and found that each of the other girls' beds had been charmed for silence.

It took her only about five seconds to make a good guess as to what the reason was, and another five to realize that they had never done this before — not before she had lent out her copies of _Our Bodies, Ourselves_.

 _I knew that a lot of beliefs and practices in the British wizarding world were old-fashioned_ , she mused, _but maybe attitudes are a bit more backwards than I realized. That would explain why they find that book so fascinating. Then again, it was considered radical when it was first published in 1970, and the British wizarding attitudes seem to date back to well before then._

Hermione smirked slightly when it occurred to her that in a sense it was her mother — a muggle! — who was responsible for this change in behavior. _Jasmine would probably blush hard enough to light up the whole dorm room if she encountered this_ , Hermione thought to herself, _even now, despite her progress. I should probably be a little embarrassed too, but quite frankly I just think it's funny_.

She had no idea that she hadn't even seen the tip of the iceberg yet.

* * *

 **Sunday, February 21, 1995, Morning.**

First thing Sunday morning, an unfamiliar owl arrived for Jasmine. Not recognizing it or the package it carried, she cast several detection charms on it which Hermione had taught her. Once she felt reassured that the package was clean of any hexes or curses, she took it and gave the indignant owl a bit of bacon. Upon opening the package, she found that it contained the shipment of gillyweed that she'd been waiting for so anxiously.

Immediately after breakfast, Jasmine and Hermione grabbed Neville and Ginny so they could all go to the Room of Requirement. As they all sat by the pool, Jasmine dumped out the gillyweed and discovered that it was a disgusting, green, slimy mass of complete grossness. "Ugh!" Jasmine said as she wrinkled her nose. "Is this right, Neville? Is it supposed to look like this?"

"Absolutely," Neville responded without even a trace of disgust. Quite the contrary, in fact: he was looking on the slimy plant with awe and wonder. "This looks like it should be a fantastic sample. I've never seen it personally myself, but from what I've read, this looks like it's really high quality." He stretched out his hand, then stopped and looked questioningly at Jasmine. "Can I pick some up?"

"Oh, by all means," she said with an encouraging gesture, a little disturbed that anyone would be so eager to voluntarily touch the stuff. "Have at it."

"Thanks," he replied as he pulled a small bit off of the mass of gillyweed and held it up to the light, making squishing sounds as he rolled it back and forth between his fingers. "Yep," he continued, "this feels like the right consistency and temperature, too. 'Warm, greasy snot' is how I believe the book described it." He didn't notice that all three witches were now quite green, with Hermione actually holding her hand to her mouth in an attempt to keep her breakfast from making a dramatic reappearance.

"And... and... I've got to **eat** that stuff?" Jasmine asked in horror.

"Better you than me," Ginny said unapologetically.

"It's completely safe!" Neville protested. "The transformation after you eat is a bit painful as gills appear in your neck, but the gillyweed itself is safe to consume. It's not supposed to even really taste like much of anything. Grassy, maybe. Mostly it's just, well, really slimy as it slides down."

Sighing, Jasmine said, "Well, might as well get this over with." Turning to Neville, she added, "While I go change, could you determine how much time all of this should last for? Then pull off one amount that should last for an hour and another that should last… say, fifteen minutes?" The last was said as she looked at Hermione, who nodded in agreement.

"Sure," Neville said and got to work while Jasmine headed over to the changing area. Ginny and Hermione watched Neville in equal parts horror and fascination as he manipulated the slimy green mess for Jasmine.

Once the auburn-haired champion returned, Neville showed her that she had enough for approximately three total hours. That gave her enough for an hour to practice, and hour for the task, an hour to give to hostages, if needed, and a little bit extra.

"Here's your first fifteen minutes," Neville said as he handed her a slippery mass about the size of a sickle. She shuddered when it reminded her of what she had wiped off her wand after she had pulled it out of the troll's nose in first year. "I've separated the rest into one mass of an hour and several separate fifteen minute sizes."

"Thanks, Neville," she said. Holding the gillyweed in front of her, she looked at it more closely and decided that increased proximity wasn't doing it any favors. She walked up to the side of the pool and popped it into her mouth, fighting to not regurgitate as it slid down her throat. After a few seconds of nothing happening, she was about to turn to talk to Neville when she suddenly felt sharp pain on the sides of her neck.

"She's changing!" Ginny said excitedly.

"She can't breathe!" Hermione quickly realized and gave the gasping, struggling Jasmine a hard shove into the pool, where she landed with a very undignified splash.

Jasmine's panic only lasted for a couple of seconds; once she was fully submerged, she realized she could indeed breathe. She looked around in wonder and began testing out her webbed feet and hands, amazed at how natural being underwater felt while using the nasty plant. She had so much fun, in fact, that she almost forgot to try casting spells. When she finally did remember, she only had about five minutes to do so and found that it was easier than when using the bubblehead charm. It seemed like hardly any time at all before she started feeling sharp pain along her neck again, and she quickly exited the pool.

"Wow," Jasmine said once she was sitting with her friends, "that was an amazing experience. Thanks so much for recommending it, Neville — this is going to help a lot." Her friend beamed at her praise.

"How was spellcasting?" Ginny asked. "I noticed that it took you a while to try it."

"Yeah," Jasmine said, a little embarrassed, "I kinda forgot because I got caught up in how much easier it was to move around underwater..."

"Don't worry about it," Hermione said encouragingly, "You need to feel comfortable doing that, too. The faster and easier you swim, the better you'll be."

"True," Jasmine agreed, now feeling a little better. "Anyway, I thought it was easier to cast spells while using the gillyweed than while using the bubblehead charm." She looked at the remaining portions of gillyweed. "I'd like to try again, but I need to be careful not to overdo it — I don't want to run out of this stuff."

"How about doing it a half hour today and a half hour tomorrow evening?" Hermione suggested.

"Sounds good," Jasmine said as she grabbed another fifteen-minute clump. This time, she remembered to start practicing the spells right away and quickly found that not only was it easier to cast them, but that she was casting them with a little more strength than she had previously managed underwater without the gillyweed.

"I didn't realize she was that powerful," Ginny observed as they watched her.

"And she's doing that silently, too," Neville pointed out. "If she were out here in the air and vocalizing her spells, I'd bet she'd be pretty scary.

They both looked at Hermione, who nodded. "Our offensive and defensive spells are quite a bit stronger than before. We still have no idea why this has happened, but we'd rather you not tell anyone — it's an advantage if others underestimate us."

Ginny and Neville immediately agreed and went back to watching Jasmine's impressive display of silent, underwater combat. When she finally reemerged from the water and had a chance to relax a bit, Neville hesitantly asked, "Is that offer to train with you still open?"

Jasmine and Hermione looked at each other for a moment, then Hermione answered, "Yes, and for both of you, in fact, though it would have to wait until after the task now. We have to focus on what Jasmine needs."

"Oh, of course," Neville said quickly.

"You don't think we'd, you know, be holding you back?" Ginny asked.

Jasmine shook her head. "I don't think so. We're still going to have to do training on our own, but that doesn't mean we can't take some time during the week to help you two as well. It'll probably be good for us anyway."

"The thing is," Hermione said a bit tentatively, "some of the spells we're learning are... well, they aren't what you'd call 'nice' spells. I mean, they're meant to hurt people."

"Dark magic?" Ginny asked, horrified.

"No!" Jasmine responded. "Some are a bit grey, but nothing truly dark. The fact is, I'm almost guaranteed to end up in a fight with people who want to hurt me, sooner or later. You both know that Voldemort isn't dead and is trying to come back." Ginny and Neville nodded soberly.

"Well," Hermione continued, "when that happens, we won't even survive, much less succeed, if we limit ourselves to stunners. I don't like it, and I'm still uncomfortable with some of these spells, but I recognize that they may mean the difference between life and death."

Both Neville and Ginny looked very pensive at hearing this. "I'm not sure I'd be ready to learn anything really nasty," Neville said slowly, "but I should probably learn better spells for defending myself."

"Me, too," Ginny said as she nodded.

"Good," Jasmine said. "After the task, we'll look into finding an evening every week when we can meet and start working on spellcasting, accuracy, and that sort of thing. There are plenty of spells besides the nasty ones which are worth learning first, anyway."

* * *

 **Tuesday, February 23, 1995, Afternoon.**

Sirius gently prodded the delicate magical instrument on the table before casting another spell on it. He'd been horrified to learn that Jasmine had a blood tracker on her, especially since he knew that there wasn't anything he could do about it. They had been created to be difficult if not impossible to interfere with — if they weren't, they'd be too easy for kidnappers and political enemies to circumvent.

However, Hermione seemed to think that she might be able to do something and had said that she wanted everything he could give her on dispelling blood trackers. That's what he was going to give her, including his own observations and analysis of one of his family's old instruments. She was an incredibly intelligent witch, and if anyone could think of a way to deal with the problem, it was probably her.

His family's old house was in better shape now, but not enough. When he had learned just how much worse Jasmine's time at the Dursleys must have been, he recommitted himself to plans to get her to move in with him, and he knew that wouldn't be possible unless the house had been thoroughly cleaned up. Unfortunately, Kreacher had been letting the place decline for years and seemed uninterested in helping to fix the mess he'd created.

"What are you doing, you good-for-nothing? Come out here and talk to me!" he heard from the hallway. It was the portrait of his mother, Walburga Black. She'd taken to screaming at him because he'd refused to answer her questions when he first arrived. Kreacher, as ever, was hovering in the doorway, watching him with suspicion.

"Stop messing with those instruments! They're far too delicate and important for the likes of you!" He wished he could work on this elsewhere, but after years of neglect he didn't think he'd be able to move it far without breaking it. Besides, his ancestors had set up this particular room to be well-suited to this kind of magical work. He didn't understand the details, but he knew it had to do with runes inscribed on all the walls and hidden under the faded, peeling wallpaper.

"Stop ignoring me, boy! I'm talking to you! What are you doing with that?" she screamed.

"I'm trying to understand how it works, you crazy old bat!" Sirius finally cried out in frustration, unable to concentrate anymore on the delicate instrument with the insane portrait screaming at him. "Someone's gone and put a blood tracking charm on my goddaughter, Jasmine, and I need to better understand how these things work! Now shut up and let me concentrate!"

After a few minutes of silence, he realized that it had worked. _It had actually worked! She's finally shut up! It's wond—_

"Jasmine who?" came a quiet voice from the hall.

 _It was too good to be true, that's what it was,_ Sirius thought with a sigh. _Then again, she didn't scream that time, so maybe it was still a victory?_

"Jasmine Potter," Sirius said through gritted teeth, tapping the instrument again before casting another spell.

"Jasmine **Dorea** Potter?" came the voice again. "Named after Dorea Black?"

Sirius stopped then, realizing that there was something odd about the voice. It still came from his mother's portrait, but it sounded different. "Yes," he answered carefully.

It was quiet for a long moment, and he thought that maybe she was done; then suddenly she said, "Dorea was my aunt. She was my favorite aunt, in fact, though I never actually thought of her as my aunt. She was only five years older than me, and I only ever called her 'auntie' to tease her."

Sirius hadn't known that, which was hardly a surprise because his mother had never talked about such things. He supposed that he should respond somehow, but he didn't really know what to say. Finally, he offered, "I guess... you were more like friends or sisters?"

"Oh, yes," his mother said, and Sirius thought he could detect a smile behind the words, which was disturbing. "Closer, even. We did everything together — I practically worshipped the ground she walked on. From an early age, I wanted to be exactly like her when I grew up. My parents and grandparents thought it was the cutest thing." Sirius didn't recognize the tone of voice at first, but eventually he realized that it was... **happiness**. Then he also realized that he had never heard his mother sound happy. It was surreal to first hear it from her portrait, years after her death.

He also couldn't imagine anyone in his family ever thinking of or calling anything **cute**.

"She protected me," Walburga continued, "from anyone who tried to hurt or tease me. Even from other family members." After a minute of silence, he heard her call out again, but this time in a tight, low voice, "You say that someone has put a blood tracking charm on my Dorea's namesake? Not family, then? An enemy of the family?"

"Yes," Sirius said immediately. **That** tone of voice he was quite familiar with. It was a dangerous tone, and he knew it well because it had so often been directed at him and his own behavior. It was a tone that promised blood and pain.

"Well," Walburga said, "we can't have that. Even if her father married a mudblood, that girl is a granddaughter of the House of Black and named after one of this House's finest witches. Have you looked at the book _Blood and Charms_? I believe it has information on blood trackers."

"Yes, actually, that was one of the first I read," Sirius replied, trying hard not to shout at her for insulting Lily — she'd finally stopped shouting herself, and it sounded like she might be trying to help, which struck him as utterly bizarre. He stood up and walked over to the doorway so he could see the portrait he was talking to. He found her standing very straight and almost regally.

"I've already told Jasmine and her friend the basics, but Hermione wants all the details on how to remove them." He held up a hand to forestall her protests. "Yes, I told her how difficult that is, but she wanted the information anyway, and I intend to give it to her. She's considered by some to be the brightest witch of her age, so if anyone can use that information, it's her. She and Jasmine are also incredibly close, so she has a lot of motivation to help."

"Do you have any suspects?" she asked.

"As a matter of fact, we do," Sirius answered. "Right now, the chief suspect is Albus Dumbledore, the Headmaster of Hogwarts and Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot."

He could see her eyes flare, and she quickly turned to the house elf. "Kreacher!"

"Yes, Mistress?" the elf said, bowing low in front of the portrait.

"You know where Phineas' portrait is, yes? Seal it in a silk bag, put silencing charms on it, and put it in the attic," she said. "Immediately!" The elf then popped away.

Sirius looked at her questioningly, and she said to him, "Upstairs in my old room is a portrait of Phineas Nigellus Black, a former headmaster of Hogwarts. He has another portrait in the headmaster's office and would be obligated to report on anything happening here — at least, he would unless bound by a higher oath, like to the House of Black. But right now, we can't take the chance. You'll need to talk to the other portraits to get their opinion before we bring him out."

Sirius slapped a hand to his face and moaned at his own short-sightedness. "I never even thought about that sort of thing. I'm lucky I avoided your room, at least. Is he the only one we have to worry about?"

Walburga nodded and said in a chastising but not entirely unkind tone, "Yes, he's the only one. You need to be more careful, Sirius. The House of Black has enemies, and you're in poor enough shape as it is to be fighting them. How do you expect to protect our young Jasmine Dorea?"

Kreacher popped back at that moment and said, "Mistress, the portrait has been sealed away."

"Thank you, Kreacher," Walburga responded. "I want you to start cleaning the house now — and be thorough about it. We don't want to be living in a house that we are ashamed of." Looking back to Sirius, she said, "I expect you intend to bring your goddaughter to live here at some point?"

"Yes," Sirius said, starting to wonder if he was still in Azkaban and hallucinating, his sanity finally having let go. "In fact, it's a priority because I think her muggle guardians have been abusing her pretty badly."

Again the eyes of the portrait flared, which surprised Sirius because he didn't think portraits could do that. "Tell me," she commanded, and for the first time he could ever remember, he willingly followed such a command from her. He explained to her about the suspicions Jasmine and Hermione had written down, complete with extensive details. He refrained from mentioning that Hermione was a muggleborn after his mother praised the witch's thoroughness — he figured it would be funny to see her expression when she finally found out.

He then had to go through a lengthy explanation of how badly he had messed up by going after Wormtail instead of taking care of Jasmine when her parents were murdered. Surprisingly, though, his mother didn't criticize him nearly as much for that as he expected her to. Oh, she told him in no uncertain terms that he made the wrong choice, but vengeance was something the Blacks understood and appreciated.

In fact, she praised him for trying to avenge his friends — even if they were "a blood traitor and a mudblood" — because in Walburga's opinion it was a sign that he still held to at least some of the family's values. However, she also felt that he needed to learn how to get vengeance in more subtle and careful ways. Killing a betrayer was fine; getting caught — especially before he could even do the deed — was not.

Walburga was incensed that Jasmine had been raised in a muggle household and agreed that she needed to be taken out of there, but she cautioned him to be careful: she thought there was something fishy about the situation, and if the girl's placement there in 1981 hadn't been entirely aboveboard, then getting her out could prove difficult. Sirius hadn't thought of that and started revising his plans immediately.

Before long, he realized it was dinnertime and took his leave of his mother's portrait so he could eat. After he had sat down, the reality of the situation finally struck him: he'd not only spent a good chunk of the afternoon having a civil conversation with his mother, a woman he'd hated with a passion for years, but it had been a productive conversation as well. She'd helped him in many ways, and he felt certain she'd keep helping him, too.

Sirius took a long drink of firewhiskey. He still wasn't entirely sure that he wasn't actually back in Azkaban, catatonic and drooling onto the cold stone floor.

* * *

 **Tuesday, February 23, 1995, Evening.**

For the last study group meeting with the Hufflepuffs (and one Ravenclaw), before the second task, Hermione, Jasmine, and Neville were surprised once again when guests were brought along — this time, three Slytherin students. "I'm sorry," Hannah apologized a bit sheepishly, "but they overheard me and Padma talking and wanted to come to... well, basically they wanted to come for the same reason that Padma did."

"We can speak for ourselves, Abbott," Daphne Greengrass said, evidently not very patient with Hannah's halting apology. "I know you know me, Potter. These are my friends, Tracey Davis and Blaise Zabini. We wanted to come to apologize to you for thinking that you cheated to get into the Triwizard Tournament. We were wrong and we're sorry. I guess Padma came earlier to do the same, right?" Padma and Jasmine both nodded.

"Well," Daphne continued, "We'd also like to spend a little time getting to know you. From what Hannah said, she thought that being separated by houses contributed to her prejudice against you. That made sense to me, and I realized that you aren't someone that I should be prejudiced against out of ignorance. Same goes for the two of you, Granger, Longbottom. We should have apologized sooner, but the rivalry between our houses made it really hard, and we weren't sure you'd accept an apology from Slytherins anyway. But we decided to try now."

Jasmine, Hermione, and Neville all shared somewhat surprised looks, not having expected anything like this. They were so surprised, in fact, that they completely forgot to treat the Slytherins with reserved coolness as they had with Padma.

"Um..." Jasmine said, "I really wasn't expecting an apology from anyone in Slytherin. Like, ever. For anything. So you've kind of caught me off guard." She blinked and tried to focus herself, then continued, "Like we've told the others, because we were treated so badly, we're not ready to completely forgive. However, we're willing to give people a chance to show that they're sincerely sorry. Tentatively, at least, we can wipe the slate clean and start over, but we'll be cautious, and we won't give anyone another chance if they turn against us like that again."

Daphne smiled, an expression that was mirrored on the faces of her two friends, and said, "That's actually a rather Slytherin way of doing things. A more Gryffindor approach would be to either deny any chance of reconciliation or charge right in, forgiving everything and not demanding any proof of remorse. I'm actually impressed, and we'd be more than willing to go along with that."

A little distressed that her attitude had been called "Slytherin," Hermione nevertheless stood up and said, "Hi, I'm Hermione Granger, a muggleborn." She held out her hand and only had to wait for a second before Daphne got the message and shook it. Everyone went around, introducing themselves as if it were for the first time.

Once they had all sat down, Daphne, Tracey, and Blaise showed that they were able to fit in with the prevailing atmosphere quite easily. Daphne was the brashest of the three and the quickest to speak her mind. Tracey seemed content to let Daphne do the talking much of the time, but she demonstrated a surprisingly irreverent sense of humor. Blaise barely spoke at all, and Daphne explained that he tended to only speak up when it was important; as if to demonstrate her point, he simply nodded in confirmation.

Homework was finished early so they could spend a little more time on personal discussion since they had three new members. Everyone gave brief descriptions of their backgrounds, which included longer explanations of what Jasmine, Hermione, and Ron had really done during the past four years. Before long, Tracey spoke up to say, "Hey, Granger, could you..."

"I'm sorry," Jasmine interrupted, "but we're all trying to be friends here, even if it is tentative in some cases. Can we use first names instead of last names?"

Tracey looked a bit sheepish, but Daphne merely looked intrigued. "Sorry," Tracey said, "but in Slytherin it's standard to be more formal and respectful towards others."

"Oh," Jasmine said, surprised. "I'm sorry, too — I didn't mean to criticize or give offense. It's just that I prefer to be relaxed and informal. We're supposed to be breaking down barriers here, yeah? Well, that's one barrier that's easy to break down."

Smiling, Tracey said, "OK, I can do that." Turning back to the other Gryffindor witch, she continued, "Hermione, I understand you lent out a book about, uh, girls' bodies? Do you have it? is there any chance Daphne and I could borrow it next?"

Blaise suddenly seemed to be fascinated by a spot on the opposite wall while Hermione asked, "Book? You mean, _Our Bodies, Ourselves_? I had a copy but lent it out. How did you learn about it, though?"

"Well," Tracey replied, "I was in the library and heard some girls talking about how great it was. Turned out it was a couple of Hufflepuffs in 6th or 7th year. I couldn't make out everything they said, though." A bit more quietly, she added, "No matter how hard I tried to listen in."

 _Hufflepuff?_ Hermione wondered.

"I was in a bathroom stall," Daphne added, "when a couple of upperclass Ravenclaws came in and started talking about all the great things in it. Well, in both — I got the impression that there were two books? Two versions, or something?" Hermione nodded while Jasmine turned to face Blaise Zabini expectantly.

He got an indignant expression before saying, "Don't look at **me**!"

Next Jasmine and Hermione turned to the Hufflepuff witches, who went a bit red before Susan said, "Yes, two books were making their way through the Hufflepuff witches' dorms. I didn't know they were from you at first, and I never got a chance to look through them. But I heard they were... fascinating."

Padma had a similar story, saying that the books had been quite popular among the Ravenclaw witches and that there was a huge demand from those who hadn't seen them yet.

"Why don't they just duplicate the books?" Hermione asked, exasperation evident in her voice. "That way, everyone can have copies."

"I don't think that's very easy to do, especially considering how complex books typically are," Daphne explained, recognizing that this was something a witch raised in the muggle world probably wouldn't know. At this point many purebloods would be scornful of such ignorance, but Daphne knew that wasn't fair. "Regardless, books are spelled with special copyright charms to prevent unauthorized duplication."

"That would hardly matter," Hermione pointed out. "They're muggle books. Muggle books don't have any spells."

"Wait, what? They're muggle?" Padma asked in surprise.

"Of course they are," Hermione said. "Why would you think otherwise?"

"I thought they were created by an American coven of witches," Susan responded.

"What? Why?" Hermione asked, even more incredulously.

"Yeah, I was told that it says inside one of the books that they were created by the Boston Women's Health Book Coven," Daphne explained. "I assumed it was somehow affiliated with the Salem Institute for Witches."

 **THUMP!** Hermione's head hit the table loudly enough to attract attention from others studying in the library.

"I don't think it's a coven," Jasmine explained, recognizing that Hermione might be unavailable for a bit while she processed this latest bit of magical lunacy. "I think it's a muggle group that specializes in educating girls and women about women's health."

"Oh," Tracey said, rather unsure of what to do about this revelation. "Well, why is it so useful to witches?"

"Because, muggle or magical, muggleborn or pureblood, we're still all female," Hermione said, amazingly back in the conversation despite her recent self-inflicted head injury. "Magic is a big difference, but there are more similarities than differences. We have the same body parts and they work in the same way. At least, I think they do — it would probably be a good idea to double check things against what magical healers say about how witches' bodies work. I suppose some of the information may not apply to us."

"Muggle or magical, I just wish I could get a copy," Daphne lamented. "Everyone who's read them is raving about them. At least, when there aren't any professors nearby."

"I'll get my mother to send another copy of each," Hermione promised, "then we'll start duplicating them. ...Wait, why not when professors are nearby?"

"Because young witches aren't taught a lot of that stuff," Daphne explained. "It's considered taboo for younger witches to know about, well, you know, such things. Many believe that if we learn such things, we'll be tempted to become wanton, scarlet women. We'll become corrupted and impure, and no wizard will want us."

"Yeah," Tracey said. "Our mothers teach us the bare minimum once we start going through, uh, our changes, and then tell us what we need to know right before we get married."

"If you're lucky," Susan added. "I've heard that some have gone into their wedding night not knowing anything, either because their mothers didn't think they needed to know or because they didn't have older female relatives to tell them. Either way, their… **husbands** instructed them on what was expected of them."

"Even when you are lucky enough to get that sort of talk from your mother," Daphne said, "I've heard that it doesn't consist of much more than advising us to lie back and think of wizarding England. Having sex with our husbands is supposed to be a duty and an obligation — and not necessarily a pleasant one, either."

Hermione just gaped at the other witch, finding it hard to believe that anyone — even magicals — could still believe such things in this day and age. Then she thought about the older pureblood witches she'd encountered and realized that many, like Mrs. Malfoy, didn't look particularly happy or satisfied, a condition which now perhaps had an explanation. Mrs. Weasley always seemed happy, but she also had seven children.

"How could knowing how your own body works be a **bad** thing?" Hermione asked.

"I don't know," Susan said, "but it's a common belief. Even my auntie has never told me a lot of the things that I hear can be found in that book, and she's not exactly under any wizard's thumb. I guess she simply adheres to a lot of old fashioned beliefs."

"It has to do with fertility rates among wizards and witches," Blaise said, surprising everyone that he was choosing to participate in the conversation. "You've noticed how few families have more than one child?" he asked. When the others nodded, he continued, "It's been that way for quite a long time, evidently, and it's causing the pureblood population of wizarding Britain to slowly shrink. You know how many unused classrooms there are in this castle? Well, there was a time when they were actually used. No one has wanted to talk about what's going on because that would require admitting weakness, so at some point it became an unwritten social policy that couples needed to work as hard as possible on having kids. Over time, it's caused people to treat sex as something that should only be done for the purpose of having kids. Sex for pleasure is looked down upon, especially for women, since it's their job to bear kids, not to have fun. Sex for anything other than having kids is treated as a waste at best and treason at worst."

"How do you know this?" Daphne asked, looking at her fellow Slytherin with a lot more curiosity and interest.

"Well, my mum…" Blaise suddenly looked a bit embarrassed. "Look, none of you will repeat any of this, will you? Normally I wouldn't say anything, but… after what I've heard so far, I think maybe I can trust the rest of you."

When the others all agreed to keep what he said about himself in confidence, he went on, "My mum has had seven husbands. She's never divorced, though — they've all died, and it's made her kind of infamous. Loads of people suspect her of murdering her husbands for their money. The truth is… well, the truth is that she frankly wore them all out. She never believed any of that nonsense that sex is just for procreation. She believes that sex should be fun, too, and that's what she taught me when she gave me 'The Talk.' Unfortunately for her husbands, she enjoyed it a bit more than they could handle, though the fact that she always married much older men might have had something to do with it. Anyway, when she explained sex to me, she also explained how wizarding Britain views it and why. So… that's how I know. That's why witches aren't taught much about sex or their bodies — only enough to become mothers themselves."

Everyone was shocked at Blaise's revelations, and on either side of him Daphne and Tracey offered him reassuring smiles to express their support. Having known him for almost four years, they understood how hard it was for him to open up about personal matters.

"Do you know if other magical communities have the same attitudes?" Hermione asked.

"My mother thinks so," Blaise responded. "It's more or less the same in the communities she's visited, and she's spent time in most European countries. Some are even worse, actually, and as far as she knows, no one has figured out why fertility among magical people has been on the decline for so long."

"I wonder if the same has happened with other magical creatures," Hermione mused softly, "like centaurs, goblins, and merpeople."

"Now I'd really like to read the book," Susan said. "The praise I keep hearing makes even more sense now."

"You all should definitely read it," Jasmine said. "I didn't know a lot of what was in there, and it really opened my eyes about a lot of things — and I was raised in the muggle world, don't forget. It made me think, too, especially the original edition. Actually, I should probably read it again — there's too much in there to really absorb in just one sitting."

"So," Daphne said teasingly, trying to lighten the mood a bit, "the books are 'Girl Who Lived' tested and approved?"

"Sure," Jasmine said, grinning, "they both get an 'Outstanding' from me."

She had no idea how much that flippant, off-hand remark would come back later to bite her.


	37. Welcome to the Black Lake

**A/N** : This is it! The second task! You can all breathe a sigh of relief, now.

 **Recommendation** : This chapter's recommended fic is "Past an Hour the Prospect's Black," by White Squirrel. Harry fails to find anything that will let him breathe underwater for the second task. Even worse, he knows that Ron and Hermione have been taken hostage — and according to the clue, they'll die if they aren't rescued. What's a desperate, reckless, underaged wizard to do?

* * *

 **Chapter 37 - Welcome to the Black Lake**

 **Wednesday, February 24, 1995, 8:00 AM.**

When Jasmine woke up the morning of the second task, she wasn't sure how she should be feeling. Anxious? Worried? Excited? If she was going to be honest, she'd have to admit that she felt all of those things plus more that she couldn't identify. It was worse than any morning of a Quidditch match. It was even worse than the morning of the first task, when she knew she'd be facing down a nesting mother dragon.

She knew, though, that she would have Hermione to soothe and calm her. Indeed, she expected that Hermione's presence would be even more beneficial now that they were a couple than it was when they were simply friends. As Jasmine got dressed, she noticed that Hermione had already gotten up and left. Crookshanks was there lying in her bed, but there was no Hermione anywhere to be seen. This struck her as a little odd — she would have expected her girlfriend to be there from the time she woke up, given what she'd be facing later that morning.

Underneath her outer robe she had on a one-piece bathing suit which Mrs. Granger had sent — a professional swimmer's suit, as Hermione had described it. Around her waist was a belt with a couple of pouches, procured by Dobby from somewhere, and in the pouches she already had the gillyweed stored. On her right forearm and right calf she secured two small knives, also procured by Dobby.

 _Gotta remember to ask him where he gets all this stuff_ , Jasmine thought idly.

Hermione was also not down in the common room reading a book on a couch in front of the fire, as Jasmine had expected her to be. The first tendrils of doubt started invading the back of her mind as she approached Neville. "Hey, Nev, have you seen Hermione this morning?" she asked.

"No, sorry," he replied. "But I've only been here for a few minutes. Do you think she already went down to breakfast?"

"I wouldn't have thought so," Jasmine said, growing increasingly agitated with worry, "We always go down together. Right now, though, I'm hoping that's what she did."

Neville's eyes widened and he said, "You don't think she..."

"I really don't know," Jasmine replied while shaking her head, "but I'm getting worried."

"C'mon," he said as he took her by the arm and started pulling her along before she could say anything else. "Let's go down to the Great Hall and see if she's there."

Jasmine didn't object as Neville led her out of the common room. To her, it was easily the longest walk through the castle she'd ever had to endure.

* * *

 **Wednesday, February 24, 1995, 8:15 AM.**

When Jasmine entered the Great Hall behind Neville, all she could think to do was scan the Gryffindor table for familiar faces. Hermione was nowhere to be seen, but she did spot the Weasleys eating together, so she made a beeline for them with Neville right behind her. Sitting down next to Ginny and across from the twins, she immediately asked, "Have you seen Hermione this morning?"

Ginny didn't know what was wrong, but she was able to recognize the tightly controlled tension and fear in Jasmine's voice, so she just as quickly responded, "No, I haven't seen her since yesterday."

"And good morning..." said one twin.

"...to you as well," said the other twin.

"Children these days," they said in unison, "No manners whatsoever."

"This is no laughing matter," Neville said firmly as he sat next to one twin and across from Jasmine. "Hermione seems to be missing, and she might have been taken."

"Oh, Merlin!" Ginny said, worry clear in her voice. "You don't think... but I thought we had that covered! She was supposed to be safe!"

"Taken?" the first twin asked.

"What covered?" the second twin asked, equally confused.

Ron didn't say anything, but he did stop eating long enough to pay attention to the new conversation.

"Ginny and I have been working with Hermione to prepare Jasmine for the second task," Neville explained, "and we figured that they were going to take something for her to find." The Weasley boys all nodded, so he continued, "But then we realized that it was more likely that they'd be taking a **person** , not a **thing** , so we took precautions to try to protect the people most likely to be used as hostages."

At that, all three Weasley boys blanched, now realizing what Neville meant when he said that Hermione may have been "taken," but Jasmine didn't notice because she half-stood and started looking around the Great Hall. At the Hufflepuff table she saw Cedric sitting with Cho Chang, which meant she was safe. He looked at Jasmine and smiled, but the smile disappeared quickly when he saw how worried she looked.

Next she caught the eye of Fleur at the Ravenclaw table. Fleur just shrugged her shoulders and shook her head, apparently not knowing who might have been taken as her hostage. Over at the Slytherin table Jasmine saw Viktor, who returned her look with a frown and a shake of his head. Apparently he did know who would be his hostage, and he wasn't happy about it.

Looking up at the staff table, she didn't see either Headmaster Dumbledore or Professor McGonagall. Dumbledore was probably off supervising last-minute preparations for the task, so no surprise there. She was a bit taken aback by McGonagall's absence, however. _I wish she were here_ , Jasmine thought. _I'm sure she would be able to help. Somehow._

Sitting back down, she told Neville what she had just learned. "Wait," said Ron, who in the meantime had moved from his seat on the other side of Ginny to sit down next to Jasmine. "you mean you've been working with the other champions? Aren't they, you know, the enemy?"

"Absolutely not," said Ginny, scowling at Ron's characterization. "They all agreed that if actual hostages were taken, then they should work together to save them. They don't believe that there is any sense in competing if that puts the hostages at extra risk. Neville and I started out working with Hermione to help Jasmine, but soon we were helping all of the champions. We discussed the spells they would use, how they would reach the hostages, you name it."

Both twins nodded at the wisdom of that decision and were clearly impressed with what their little sister had been up to. Ron frowned in thought and said, "Given all the things that have happened to us over the past years, we can't trust the adults to keep hostages safe. And it's their fault that Jasmine got sucked into this dangerous competition in the first place."

Jasmine looked over and gave Ron a small smile. He'd apologized already for how he had acted after her name came out of the Goblet of Fire, but it hadn't been a very good apology. In some ways, though, this was a more sincere and heartfelt statement of support for her than she'd heard from anyone else short of Hermione, Neville, and Ginny.

"Quite right, brother of ours," the twins said simultaneously.

"We'd offer to help," the second twin said.

"But there probably isn't anything to do at this point," the first twin said.

"You need to eat, Jasmine," Ginny said, dishing some eggs onto a plate that she'd put in front of her. The others joined in, adding toast, bacon, juice, and milk to the breakfast they wanted her to eat. Jasmine sighed deeply, remembering the many times Hermione had done the same thing for her.

"Not too much," Neville cautioned, "she's going to be exerting herself underwater soon, and we don't want a heavy breakfast slowing her down."

There was never any danger of that happening because Jasmine only picked at what was in front of her. She was far too distracted by worry over what had happened to Hermione. It was a virtual certainty now that she'd been taken as a hostage for her — that she'd been put in danger because of Jasmine and for the entertainment of others. Jasmine was wishing that she'd gone with her earlier instincts to clear a path to the Chamber of Secrets so she could hide the witch who was and had long been the most important person in the world to her.

Now that witch was missing. _If anything happens to her_ , Jasmine thought, _I'm going to take it out of someone's hide..._

Recognizing how distressed their green-eyed champion was getting, Neville and the Weasleys tried hard to distract her, but they didn't have a lot of luck. Even the twins' jokes didn't get more than a half-hearted smile out of her. Ginny, too, recognized the problem and suspected that there was only one solution for it: a kiss from Hermione. As much as she didn't want to see that sort of thing, she was starting to wish that she could, at least this one time.

* * *

 **Wednesday, February 24, 1995, 9:05 AM.**

Jasmine was so absorbed in her own concerns that she didn't notice when Professor Flitwick came up behind her. "Miss Potter?" he greeted her. "I should escort you down to the Black Lake for the second task. The other champions have already left, and there's less than half an hour before it starts."

Surprised at how late it had gotten, Jasmine almost jumped out of her seat.

"Do you mind if we walk with you?" Ron asked. The Charms professor didn't have any objection to that, so the group of six Gryffindor students and one professor left the Great Hall and made their way down to the Black Lake. Even from the castle's front entrance, they could already see that stands had been erected and were filling up with spectators.

"Say," Ron whispered to Jasmine as they walked down the path, "did you ever think to check the map? You know, to at least confirm her location?"

" **Gah!** " Jasmine half-shouted. "I can't believe I didn't... so distracted... I'm such an idiot!"

"Don't worry about it," Ron continued to whisper. "Like the twins said, it's too late to do anything about it. All you'd have been able to do is confirm that she isn't in the castle."

"You seem to be especially troubled, Miss Potter," Flitwick observed dryly. "Is it simply a case of nerves before the task?"

"No, Professor," she said, an edge of anger creeping into her voice. "It's Hermione. I think she was taken to be a hostage for this task — and right out of her bed sometime in the night, too. She shouldn't have been, though, because she had a letter from her parents denying her permission to take part in the Triwizard Tournament as anything but a spectator."

"Several of us have them," Ginny said when she noticed the professor's look of surprise. "When we figured out that they might take people instead of objects, the most likely hostages for each champion wrote home for such letters. We were hoping that they would prevent certain people from being used like this against their will."

"Apparently not," Neville said with a scowl.

"She might not have been given a chance to show that letter," Flitwick suggested slowly, hoping that there was a good explanation for what had happened.

"Well, that's no better, is it?" Ron said severely. "She'd have shown it if she could, which means that she was taken and used without being given a chance to say or do anything."

"So she wasn't even asked for her consent," Jasmine said, her anger growing now. "That's wrong in just so many ways. It's bad enough that **I've** been forced to risk my life in this stupid tournament against my will, but now the organizers are doing the same to other students. What gives them the right? Who gave them the authority to decide life and death for us? If anything at all happens to her, I'll... I'll..."

Jasmine didn't get a chance to finish that sentence. Neville quickly recognized that her distress and anger were mounting again, so he put his arm around her in a show of support. He didn't know how likely it was that she might blow up again, but he didn't want to take any chances. Ron, who was walking on her other side, mimicked his action. He didn't know anything about her anger issues or the damage she might be able to cause, he just wanted to comfort a good friend who seemed like she needed it.

Flitwick had an idea of what was going on, though, and he was very glad to see that the two boys' actions were starting to calm the young witch. He didn't know much about what the two Gryffindor witches were going through — nobody who hadn't gone through it themselves could, evidently — but he knew enough to be very, very worried about what might happen if someone harmed one and the other was allowed to fully express her rage.

According to goblin historians, the Portuguese Rebellion of 1755, which had the distinction of being the shortest goblin war ever, started when the wizard half of such a couple was accused of theft while they were both visiting the Lisbon branch of Gringotts. When they objected, the wizard was taken into custody, and the witch was kicked out of the bank. That was a decision the Senior Branch Supervisor wouldn't live to regret.

When the witch returned with aurors and ministry officials, the goblin representative refused them admittance and said that the wizard in custody would be tried and found guilty by the end of the day. For goblins, being found guilty of theft led to only one punishment, and it was just a question of how painful the convicted thief's last minutes or hours would be.

The ministry tried to break in, causing the goblins to declare a rebellion and drive the aurors off. The enraged witch, who was now desperate and had nothing left to lose, returned an hour later in full battle regalia and attacked the bank single-handedly, using spells of such power and destructive force that the defending goblins stood little chance. She then began moving through the subterranean city like an avenging angel, taking on hordes of goblins that were now desperately defending their homes.

The battle beneath Lisbon rocked the entire city, destroying over eighty percent of Lisbon's buildings and killing tens of thousands of muggles. The survivors had to be obliviated and fed a story about an earthquake — it was the only explanation that even vaguely fit the massive devastation. Neither the couple nor any of the thousands of goblins who worked in or lived under the bank survived. Even today, no goblins did business in Portugal — magicals there got their banking services from dwarves who were based in Switzerland.

It was because of that incident, and after learning the true nature of the couple's bond, that the goblin ruler at the time, Hellraiser I, made it an official decree that the goblins would tread lightly around such couples and do whatever was reasonable and within Gringotts policies to keep them happy.

Flitwick was roused from his internal musings by their arrival at the Black Lake. Ginny and the twins headed for the stands, but Ron and Neville refused to be separated from their friend, which Flitwick thought was a good idea. Headmaster Dumbledore was waiting with the judges, and it wouldn't do to have a major altercation just before the big event.

"Good luck, Miss Potter," he said before moving off to join the rest of the staff. He didn't miss the slight glow behind her eyes when she looked over and thanked him.

* * *

 **Wednesday, February 24, 1995, 9:15 AM.**

Albus Dumbledore had been having a good morning. Pleased that he had arrived at such a convenient solution for his problems with the hostages and had successfully gotten all four to the bottom of the Black Lake to be bound and guarded by the merpeople, he had been looking forward to what he hoped would be an exciting competition. Well, as exciting as was possible, given that those watching wouldn't see any of the actual competition except when the champions dove into the water and then emerged again about an hour later.

 _Now that I'm thinking about it, maybe this wasn't a very good choice for an event_ , he considered. _Oh, well, too late now._

Not even Minerva's sniping had been enough to shake his good mood. He really didn't understand why she was so upset anyway. _Granted, one of her Gryffindors is being held at the bottom of an ice-cold lake, and it's one of her favorite students, but the girl is perfectly safe. Why, I created and cast the protections for her personally! What could possibly go wrong? Minerva was acting like she didn't trust me, though… as if I did something inappropriate._

It was the behavior of the champions that had started to disturb him and ruin his good mood. All of them looked very upset, whispering to each other and casting nasty, even hateful, glares at the judges and other tournament officials... including him! They should be excited and anxious, or perhaps a bit worried about their performance, but this... Dumbledore was at a loss as to what was wrong with them.

 _Maybe I should have the elves check the food for potions_ , he thought, _in case there is something that's negatively affecting both them and Minerva._

He'd tried to ignore the feelings of foreboding as he listened to the other judges chat, putting on a positive face in order to not upset anyone else with what was surely just mild paranoia. Or indigestion, perhaps. But then Dumbledore looked up the path towards the castle and saw Jasmine Potter approach with some other students and Filius. "Ah, good," he said to the other judges, "Miss Potter is almost here, so we'll be able to get things started shortly."

Then Miss Potter and two of her friends separated from the others, and he noticed that one of the two boys who had an arm around her was Ronald Weasley. _Could they be repairing their friendship even faster than I had hoped?_ he asked himself. _That would really help my plans al..._

All thought stopped for him when she caught his eye. Looking at her closely now, he saw anger. He saw hate. He saw **power**. It was only a slight glowing behind her eyes, but it would be plainly evident to any witch or wizard who was familiar with the buildup of magical energy. It was not something he had expected to see with a fourth-year witch.

All of it — the anger, the hate, and the power — appeared to be aimed directly at him. It was almost as if she blamed him for someth….

"Lady? Gentlemen?" Dumbledore said as he quickly turned to the other judges and officials. "Maybe we should move this event along and get started, hm?"

* * *

 **Wednesday, February 24, 1995, 9:25 AM.**

As Jasmine approached the other champions, Fleur saw her two companions separate from her and stay back a bit, presumably to give her a chance to talk without having two boys just hanging off her. _I guess they don't want to leave her entirely alone_ , Fleur concluded. _But they also aren't competitors, so they have to keep a little distance. Those are very good friends, I think._

"Do you know who was taken?" was the first thing Jasmine said as she joined the group.

"One of my friends vas missing this morning," Viktor said with a deep scowl. "He had a letter to prevent that, though."

"Non," Fleur said while shaking her head, "my friends were all zere zis morning."

"Same here," Cedric said. "I assume you saw Cho with me at breakfast, so she's fine despite not having a letter from her parents. Everyone else who's reasonably close to me was at breakfast, too. I didn't see anyone missing. What about you, Jasmine?"

Taking a deep breath in an attempt to remain calm, she answered, "Hermione was gone this morning, and no one has been able to find her. I'm pretty sure she was taken as my hostage." The others all shared Jasmine's concern, but Fleur was the most upset. She wasn't sure if the others could see the glowing power behind the younger witch's eyes, but she knew they couldn't see the power roiling around her, and now it made sense, if Hermione was the one taken from her. For one half of a bonded couple (even if the bond wasn't complete yet) to be put in danger like that….

"Mon dieu," Fleur whispered as she walked over to Jasmine and pulled the witch into a quick hug. "We will get 'er, you will see," she said softly into the younger witch's ear. Leaning back, Fleur was heartened to see the girl smiling slightly, the most positive expression she'd had since arriving at the docks. "I promise you," Fleur added, "we will get 'er back safe and healthy."

The short conversation ended when Ludo Bagman and Percy Weasley approached the champions. "I assume you all found the clue in the egg and so know what you have to do?" Bagman asked, entirely too jovial given the circumstances. The champions all nodded with grim expressions on their faces.

"Good, good," Bagman continued, still happy and somehow ignoring the nasty looks he was receiving. "Then you just have to find your hostage and return as soon as possible. First one back with their hostage is the winner!"

"The second task will begin in just a few minutes," Percy Weasley added, his stiff, no-nonsense demeanor a stark contrast to Bagman's attitude, "so I suggest you all get yourselves ready."

All four champions took off their outer robes, revealing that they had all chosen to wear swimsuits. Jasmine was the only one of the four to think to wear knives, probably due to her muggle upbringing. Magicals tended to reach to magic and nothing else in order to solve problems; muggles, muggleborn, and muggle-raised tended to think of tools and technology as well.

Standing nervously at the end of the docks which had been constructed specially for this event, the champions waited anxiously for the signal to begin.

* * *

 **Wednesday, February 24, 1995, 9:30 AM.**

As soon as the canon blast sounded, Jasmine took the hour-sized lump of slimy gillyweed and stuffed it into her mouth. While she waited for it to take effect, she noted that Viktor dove right in and seemed to blur as he cast the self-transfiguration spell in mid-air. Fleur and Cedric cast warming charms on themselves first, then the bubblehead charm before diving in. As soon as Jasmine felt the sharp, cutting pain on the sides of her neck which signaled the appearance of gills, she followed the other three into the cold, murky water.

She already knew which direction she needed to go and quickly saw Fleur and Cedric a half dozen meters below her. Amazed at how well she could see, even through the darkened water, she decided that the gillyweed must confer even more benefits than Neville had known about. Catching movement out of the corner of her eye, she immediately looked and saw a large, long, greyish shape moving fast through the water.

After a moment, she was able to tell that it was a shark — a Great White shark, too, if she remembered that movie correctly. She'd only been able to see a few minutes on the telly before she was chased out of the room, but it certainly made an impression on her at the time. _I hope that's Victor_ , she thought nervously to herself as she watched it circle menacingly another dozen or so meters below the other champions.

As she moved closer to Fleur and Cedric, she saw that they were both casting the locator spell to see if they could get a direction on a tracking charm for any of the hostages. Jasmine joined them, searching for the particular tracking charm she and Hermione had placed on her the previous night.

None of them got a positive hit. The tracking charms either didn't work underwater or had been removed.

Each gave the other a grim look, then they all started swimming towards the center of the Black Lake, hoping that the merpeople's village was the right location for the hostages and that the map they had all studied was accurate.

* * *

 **Wednesday, February 24, 1995, 9:45 AM.**

It didn't take long for them to reach the point near the middle of the lake which Viktor believed was probably above the merpeople's village. Unfortunately, it was also very near a large kelp jungle — an area which, according to Ginny's research, would probably be home to packs of grindylows. They didn't have to actually go through it, which was lucky, but going straight down they'd only be a few meters from the edge — close enough for grindylows to attack, if they were feeling brave.

As the others dove, Jasmine moved a bit further away from the kelp and kept a close eye on the jungle border. Deciding that this was not a time to act conservatively, she cast _Relashio_ whenever she saw suspicious movement in the kelp. Some of it was probably unnecessary, but she hoped that the show of force would be intimidating enough to not only keep the grindylows at bay right now, but also later when they were returning and too burdened with hostages to be able to fight easily.

 _Should have thought of that earlier and made plans to deal with it_ , Jasmine lamented.

She didn't know if it was Viktor's shark form, her spells, or a combination of the two, but the trip down to the bottom of the lake was just as uneventful as the trip across when they were near the surface.

* * *

 **Wednesday, February 24, 1995, 9:55 AM.**

When the underwater village finally came into view, Jasmine was surprised at how large it was. That wasn't good — the larger the village, the more they'd have to search to find anyone. _And what if the hostages aren't all in the same place?_ Jasmine suddenly realized. _We didn't plan for that!_

Before panic could set in, though, she saw Cedric pointing, and when she looked in that direction, she saw Krum circling over what looked like it might be the center of the village. There was a large statue of some sort there, and in front of it were four human figures, tied up and floating lazily just above the lake bed. _That's them!_ Jasmine thought excitedly. She immediately followed the other two, remembering to stay behind and above them to provide cover in case of attack.

As they moved in, Viktor moved out, making much larger circuits around the village center. Jasmine noted that the merpeople were all watching Viktor closely and held their weapons in a defensive position, as if they expected an attack from the Durmstrang champion. It was then that it occurred to Jasmine that the merpeople might not realize that the shark was a champion.

 _Yet another thing we didn't plan for_ , she thought. _Some champions we're turning out to be..._

Those thoughts were cut short when Jasmine and the others got closer and were confronted by a horrifying sight: one of the hostages was waking up! Jasmine had no idea who it was, though she seemed familiar. In fact, other than Hermione, she didn't think she knew any of them: one male, the age of a student; another male, much older and who seemed vaguely familiar; one female, very young.

Suddenly, Jasmine realized why the little girl seemed familiar. _That's Fleur's little sister! From the Imbolc celebration! Gab-something or other. I can't believe they decided to use someone so young..._

Jasmine looked down at the French champion swimming below her, but Fleur had recognized her sister already and was starting to transform — a very, very bad idea under water. Her fire wouldn't work and her feathers and wings would make it harder to swim. That wasn't the worst part, though: her beak was now starting to push out against the bubble that was allowing her to breathe.

With no time to come up with a better plan, she quickly cast the _Ebublio_ jinx on Fleur, trapping her in a large bubble which appeared to be filled with air rather than water. It was only a couple of seconds after this that Fleur's sharp beak pierced her bubble head charm, which would have caused her to drown if Jasmine hadn't already enclosed her in a much larger bubble.

 _Thank you Professor McGonagall!_ Jasmine thought.

Jasmine next used the superior speed provided by her webbed hands and feet to zoom past Cedric and land in front of the hostages — specifically, the now-conscious little girl who was panicked and struggling due to a lack of oxygen. Jasmine could see the fear in her eyes as she reached out to her, desperate for someone to save her.

Jasmine's first instinct had been to go directly to Hermione, but she couldn't risk letting this girl drown, and she knew Hermione would approve of the decision. She cast the strongest bubblehead charm she could and watched as the little veela started taking in huge gulps of air, her face showing an expression of extreme gratitude and something that Jasmine thought might be adoration.

When Jasmine turned around, she saw Cedric bringing Fleur's bubble with him as he approached. Fleur raged in there in her avian form, but her talons and fire were having no effect on the bubble created by Jasmine's spell. Jasmine pointed at Cedric, raised two fingers, and with a questioning look pointed at the two male hostages. She saw Cedric's eyebrows shoot up when he looked closely at the older man, but she didn't have time to wonder what their connection was; instead, she reached down for the knife strapped to her calf and handed it to Cedric. As short as the ropes tying them to the lakebed were, she didn't want to take the chance of a spell accidentally cutting a hostage.

Unfortunately, with all of the unexpected things happening, neither she nor Cedric noticed the merpeople edging in closer. Everything was fine when Cedric cut the rope which secured the older man to the lake bed, but when he went to cut the rope attached to the school-aged boy and Jasmine made to free Fleur's sister, screeching came from all sides as the merpeople surged forward in apparent anger, tridents and spears pointed right at them.

Viktor was nowhere to be seen. Fleur was trapped in a bubble and would have been even more useless if she'd been outside it. Cedric was focused entirely on the rope he was cutting because the screeching was muffled by his bubblehead charm.

Only Jasmine looked up in time to see the merpeople coming at them from all directions. _Oh, shite_ , she thought, _we're all gonna die..._


	38. Rescue Me

**A/N:** I think I received more reviews for the last chapter than for any other chapter previously. Clearly, readers like tension-filled cliffhangers, and I'll have to use them more often... but to spare you having to wait any longer, I'm publishing this a day early. Enjoy!

 **Recommendation** : This chapter's recommended fic is "Harry Potter and the Price of Being Noble," by DriftWood1965. When Harry helps Fleur then rescues Gabrielle during the second task, the consequences for him go far, far beyond anything he could have imagined." Harry/Multi.

* * *

 **Chapter 38 - Rescue Me**

 **Wednesday, February 24, 1995, 10:05 AM.**

Death had come to visit Jasmine Potter in many guises: a dark lord, a troll, a basilisk, a dementor, a dragon, and more - far more than any adult should ever have to deal with, let alone a fourteen-year-old girl. Yet in the face of all those trials, she did not run, did not panic, and most certainly did not give up. Even when convinced that she wouldn't survive, she did not give up.

No, what Jasmine Potter did was strike out at whatever endangered her or those she cared about, determined to at least give others time to get away before the end.

The merpeople, however, weren't truly a threat. They had instructions to ensure that each champion only took the hostage assigned to them, and when they saw both Cedric and Jasmine freeing the wrong hostages, they moved to set things right. It wasn't their fault that their fierce visages made them look far angrier and more dangerous than they really were. And they didn't realize the degree to which a circling shark and a transformed veela had put them all on edge, causing them to hold out their weapons in a threatening manner without intending to.

So it was all an unfortunate misunderstanding. Terrible battles had been fought in the past due to similar misunderstandings, such as what happened to Arthur at the Battle of Camlann, and this was little different.

Perceiving a threat to not just the champions, but also to the helpless hostages - and her Hermione in particular - Jasmine's eyes glowed once again with renewed power as she shot four meters straight up, giving her the "high ground" as most of the merpeople were floating just above the lake bed, presumably to remain close to the hostages.

Jasmine had yet to receive any sort of tactical training or education in combat. She'd only learned a few dangerous spells and a bit of advice on when to use them, so she simply reached out to the best spells she could cast silently - nothing fancy, just brute force. What she didn't realize was that her nightly occlumency exercises with Hermione, despite not having gone on for very long, had already improved her ability to mentally focus. This not only gave her an extra edge in the speed of her spellcasting, but also allowed her to direct her anger in productive ways, thus reducing the chances that she might explode in a mindless rage.

That's not to say that she was thinking very clearly at this point, however. The only thing going through her mind was: _You. Will. Not. Harm. Them._

In one direction she shot an overpowered banishing charm, in another a wide _Lacero_ , then a _Depulso_ , then another _Lacero_. As she was doing this, Viktor came barreling through in his shark form, slamming into the groups which Jasmine's spells missed. He refrained from biting them, but the force of his nearly one-ton shark body moving at almost thirty miles per hour was more than enough to break up groups and injure individuals. Jasmine frequently turned back to cast a quick _Depulso_ , _Lacero_ , or both at the groups knocked around by Viktor. This ensured that they didn't recover fast enough to attack him from behind as he swam off towards other targets.

Cedric realized what was happening shortly after Jasmine started firing off spells, so he began casting his own spells at isolated merpeople who weren't in the groups being targeted by Jasmine or Viktor. Most of these individuals were swimming high enough above the lake bed to avoid Jasmine's attacks and might have been able to overwhelm her had Cedric not prevented them from closing.

When Jasmine saw what he was doing, she shot him an appreciative look and nodded her thanks. _Always have a Hufflepuff watching your back_ , she decided.

Shocked at both the speed and the ferocity of the attack from the humans, the merpeople soon withdrew, pulling numerous casualties with them. Jasmine saw enough blood in the water to know that she must have injured quite a few, and in one direction she saw a partially collapsed building, presumably the victim of one of her banishing charms. _That one must have been a lot stronger than I managed during training_ , she thought in surprise.

All in all, the battle only lasted several minutes, but to those involved on both sides it seemed to have lasted quite a bit longer. Jasmine in particular was amazed at how much magic she had expended and might have worried about her ability to finish the task if she weren't so focused on saving the hostages next.

Viktor swam in tight circles around the center of the village, unwilling to move too far from his fellow champions in the face of the apparent threat. The merpeople had all retreated outside the village center, but they remained in organized groups and still looked like they could attack.

Fleur was still screeching impotently inside the bubble and kept throwing fireballs, not that they were doing any good. Jasmine wished she could give the enraged veela a hug to calm her and get her transformation to reverse, but there was nothing she or anyone could do for the French champion right now.

 _What a pain - we could really use the extra wand_ , Jasmine lamented. _This was always going to be tough enough with three champions, a shark, and four helpless hostages. Now we have two champions, a shark, and five helpless individuals!_

Cedric finished releasing the school-aged boy while Jasmine cut the bonds on Fleur's sister then freed Hermione. She so desperately wanted to pull her girlfriend into a hug, but this really wasn't a good time, even without taking the audience into account. Instead she looked to Cedric, who had one of his two hostages' ropes in each hand. When he nodded, she got the little veela to ride on her piggy-back style with her short legs wrapped around Jasmine's middle. Jasmine then grabbed Hermione's rope and turned to Fleur.

Cedric's hands were full and Viktor didn't have any hands, so it was up to Jasmine to deal with Fleur as well. _How do I get myself into these things?_ she groused silently. The giant bubble couldn't be grabbed, but with her wand in her free hand she was able to banish the bubble up and away from her.

Fleur did not look at all happy about that.

Viktor saw that they were starting to move and so proceeded to rise higher and higher with each circle, scouting ahead for threats and hopefully intimidating anything that might recognize how much more vulnerable their group was now than when they had descended on the village earlier.

* * *

 **Wednesday, February 24, 1995, 10:20 AM.**

About half a dozen meters below Viktor, Cedric Diggory kicked hard, the two hostages he was dragging along preventing him from swimming as fast as he could normally. Behind him came Fleur in her bubble, blasted along every so often by a _Depulso_ from Jasmine's wand. Bringing up the rear, Jasmine had a small veela clinging tightly to her back while she dragged her girlfriend along by a rope.

Every time Jasmine banished Fleur's bubble several meters up through the water, she would search around for possible threats. The champions were extremely vulnerable right now, and she was glad that she had intimidated the grindylows on the way down - she wasn't sure she would be able to handle them very well at the moment.

She was sure she could see merpeople following behind and well out of range, but there wasn't anything she could do about them. _Just try to come a bit closer, though,_ she silently dared them, _and I'll show you a bit more of what I'm willing to do to protect us._ She was tempted to cast a few laceration charms blindly behind her but decided that it would just be a waste of energy.

The trip back up was far, far worse for Fleur than the trip down had been. Every time Jasmine hit the bubble with a banishing charm, it spun. And twisted. And spun. Fleur was no longer raging now - not because her anger had abated, but because it had been overwhelmed by motion sickness. By the time they were a little more than halfway to the surface, Fleur's avian form had already vomited twice... and was promptly covered by the sick as she was spun around some more, which only caused her to feel queasier.

Usually, transformed veela returned to their human forms once their anger had been sated. Occasionally they could be induced to return by being calmed by the right sort of people. Fleur Delacour would have the dubious honor of becoming the first veela known to have her transformation reversed through sheer nausea. She would later get Jasmine to swear an oath to ensure that this remained known to only a very small, select group of people. Fleur had had dreams of making history, but not like that.

Partway through the ascent, Jasmine started feeling pain along her neck, signalling that the gillyweed's effects were about to end. She quickly reached into her pouch and pulled out a pinch more of the slimy stuff - a bit less than the full fifteen minutes that Neville had measured out. She needed enough to finish the task, but she didn't want to be stuck in the lake for any longer than was necessary.

After they reached the top of their ascent, both Jasmine and Cedric seemed to arrive independently at the conclusion that it was better to simply keep swimming below the surface rather than try to rise above it and revive the hostages. Waking them up just so they could help swim through an icy lake hardly seemed fair - and what if they couldn't all swim?

When Viktor reached the dock, he didn't exit the water as Jasmine had expected but instead slipped under the dock, transformed back into a human, and cast the bubblehead charm on himself. When Cedric arrived he joined Viktor, and together they eased Fleur's bubble under the dock when Jasmine's final banishing spell pushed it close enough.

 _What are they doing?_ Jasmine wondered.

When she reached the others, exhausted from the physical and magical exertion, she noticed that Fleur's slow transformation back into her normal form had finally completed, though she looked absolutely pitiful. Jasmine ended the _Ebublio_ jinx, and Fleur renewed her own bubblehead charm. As bad as she looked, she was currently the best off of all of them since she hadn't expended nearly as much magical or physical effort thus far. After using a few cleaning charms on herself, she moved to Jasmine and hugged both her and her little sister. When Jasmine looked back over her shoulder, she saw that the little veela was grinning broadly, as if she hadn't just been involved in a life-or-death situation.

Jasmine next looked around at the other two champions and frowned, wondering why they were waiting here. Viktor seemed to understand what was going through Jasmine's mind and pointed at his neck, then at her, then grasped both her hand and Cedric's. After a few moments, Jasmine realized that he was trying to tell her that they would all stay together until her gillyweed ended. The others could leave now, but they wouldn't leave her behind, even though she was safe.

Despite being immersed in water, Jasmine discovered that she could still get misty-eyed. Just a little.

* * *

 **Wednesday, February 24, 1995, 10:43 AM.**

Nearly fifteen minutes late, the champions began to emerge from the lake and climb up onto the docks. Cheers of excitement and welcome faltered a bit in surprise as the champions helped each other out of the water and stood there together with their hostages, almost as if they had acted jointly rather than as competitors.

One of the first to reach the dripping students was Madam Pomfrey. "Are either of you injured?" she asked Jasmine and Hermione brusquely. When they said no, she moved on to the others. She didn't necessarily believe them, of course, but if they were coherent enough to answer her question, she could check on the others before returning to do a more thorough exam.

Having hit on the idea that they could more easily stay close by if they assisted the Hogwarts healer, Neville and Ron were right on her heels carrying numerous warm blankets. And the two Gryffindor wizards just happened to ensure that their blankets went first to Jasmine and Hermione.

"Here you go," they said almost simultaneously as each held out a blanket to the two witches. Only Ron's blanket was taken, though, as they huddled up together under it without saying a word. They just held each other close and shivered. Neville was neither surprised nor offended; if Ron was surprised, he didn't say anything.

What did surprise both of them was that Jasmine seemed to have acquired a barnacle - a small, cute, blonde barnacle who simply wouldn't let go of the auburn-haired witch. As Gabrielle snuggled closer to Jasmine in an effort to get warm, the stresses of the morning finally began to take their toll, and she appeared ready to doze off.

Fleur took Neville's blanket and huddled in close to the other three, giving the impression that she'd have been under there with them if only their blanket had been large enough. "I told you we'd save 'er," Fleur said softly in Jasmine's ear. "And zank you for saving me and my sister. I am so ashamed - by letting my emotions take over, I could 'ave caused both 'er and me to die. We both owe you so much more zan we can ever repay."

Jasmine shook her head and hugged Hermione tighter while putting her free arm around Gabrielle, causing the half-asleep veela to nestle even closer to her savior. "You don't need to thank me," she tried to insist. "Anyone else would have done the same."

"No, zey wouldn't," Fleur said, "especially for veela, but it doesn't matter if zey would or not. You did, and zat's what eez important. My sister and I will forever be in your debt. My whole family will, too, I zink."

Jasmine wasn't quite sure what to say to that, so she returned her attention to her girlfriend. "I was so scared that I'd lose you," she whispered softly to Hermione. "I've been worried all morning, right from when I got up and couldn't find you. And then when I saw you floating in the water... it looked like you were dead."

Hermione tightened her hold on Jasmine, saying, "I'm sorry I scared you."

"So what happened?"

"I don't know," Hermione answered. "I went to bed as usual, but at some point I woke up in the Headmaster's office. He looked pleased with himself, but Professor McGonagall was there, too, and she looked furious. He told me I had the privilege of having been selected to help you in the second task, as if it were a great honor; and before I could object everything went black. The next thing I knew, I was in the water with you, waking up and being helped up to this dock."

"I can't believe him!" Jasmine growled, getting angry again at what had been done to her girlfriend. Hermione didn't want to take a chance of Jasmine blowing up again, so she whipped the blanket up over their heads to hide them completely. As soon as she moved the blanket, she threw off a large, ugly beetle which had been crawling across the outside of it. While she kissed her girlfriend soundly, the beetle flew off in the direction of the judges.

Neville and Ron had followed Madam Pomfrey, moving on to the others who had exited the water and handing out blankets and mugs of hot cocoa. With their backs turned, they didn't see the pale blue and green glowing lights that flashed under the edges of the blanket hiding the two Gryffindor witches. No one could see how the glow fully encompassed the youngest veela, who had her head buried in Jasmine's shoulder and had fallen asleep by that point.

No one noticed, that is, except Fleur, who was crouched in front of the other three, shielding them from the sight of those milling around on the docks or still sitting in the stands. She not only saw a faint blue and green glow under the edges of the blanket, but actually felt them as they seemed to reach out from under the blanket and grasp her.

* * *

 **Wednesday, February 24, 1995,10:50 AM.**

Had Jasmine been paying attention, she would have learned that Cedric's hostage was in fact his own father, Amos Diggory. She'd met him briefly the previous summer, which was why she thought he seemed a little familiar, but the murky lake water had distorted his features. Both Diggory men were approached by Dumbledore, who was eager to find out exactly what had happened in the Black Lake.

He knew Amos somewhat from the Ministry, and also knew how honorable his son was, so he expected that he'd easily get information from Cedric. He couldn't interrogate them alone, though, because the other judges insisted on being there as well.

"Mr. Diggory," Dumbledore said, addressing the Hogwarts champion, "I was quite surprised to see you all come out of the lake together and apparently working as a group. Can you shed some light on this mystery?"

"All of us champions decided weeks ago to work together to ensure the safety and survival of the hostages," Cedric asserted. Amos, already very proud of his son, puffed out his chest a bit more at this revelation.

"There was hardly any need for that, my boy," Dumbledore said a bit impatiently. "The hostages were never in any danger. I made sure of that personally."

"You may say that, but none of us believed it for a second," Cedric snapped back, not even trying to show the headmaster the respect he'd usually given him in the past.

"Now see here!" Percy exclaimed. "You can't say that to us!"

"Oh, stuff it, Percival," Cedric said shortly.

Disappointment clear in his voice, Dumbledore asked, "But why did you believe that the hostages would be in any danger?"

"You are the same people," Cedric said, looking around at all the judges and officials, "who supposedly guaranteed the protections around the Goblet of Fire originally, yet an underage witch was entered without her knowledge and has been forced to compete in deadly tasks anyway. And we **still** haven't heard any results of any investigation into how that happened or who did it! Since your guarantees didn't work for the Goblet originally, none of us trust you to guarantee anyone's safety in the tasks."

"But Ced," Amos said, his brows furrowed in confusion, "I thought Potter cheated..."

"No, Father," Cedric said hotly, cutting him off. "Jasmine didn't cheat. She's honorable, loyal, and trustworthy. She's a better Hufflepuff than most of the people actually sorted into that house, and none of the professors here have done **anything** to stop the rumors about her or the school-wide hostility towards her."

"Ja," added Viktor Krum, who had been standing close by and unnoticed. "I have been disgusted by vat I have seen in Hogwarts."

Amos Diggory looked disturbed, and Dumbledore felt sick at the fact that there were so many witnesses to all of this. The last thing he needed was for people to start talking about the failure of the investigation or why the Girl Who Lived was being endangered.

"And that's without getting into all of the dangerous situations that have happened in this school in recent years," Cedric continued, "You can't keep out rampaging trolls, you let a basilisk run loose for most of a year, and you allow dementors to attack students. Of course no one can trust you to keep hostages safe, especially when you've **admitted** that someone entered Jasmine in this tournament to harm or kill her!"

Everyone was suddenly very keen to hear more about these events - everyone except Dumbledore, of course. He already knew all about them and had worked hard to keep the stories from being discussed extensively by the general public. He couldn't risk having politicians or bigoted officials from the Ministry trying to interfere with Hogwarts, something that would do much more harm than good in the long run. Rumors being spread by students was one thing, but if people came to genuinely believe that he couldn't keep Hogwarts safe, he'd have a lot more trouble leading the fight against Tom when he finally returned.

"Now, now, Mr. Diggory," Dumbledore said, desperate to steer the conversation in another direction, "I don't think we need to waste time with ancient history like that. What matters right now is what happened down in the lake."

Cedric wasn't quite ready to let the previous topic go, but he recognized that everyone did need to learn what happened. "Well, as I said we all worked together. And we were right to be worried about the safety of the hostages. When we got to them, one of them was waking up - the little girl. And once we started to free them, the merpeople all attacked at once. I wasn't even looking when it started. We'd have all been slaughtered if it hadn't been for Jasmine."

Dumbledore's eyes widened in surprise, but before he could say anything, Percy stepped in. "What did she do?" he asked with a frown. "She didn't violate any Ministry laws or regulations, did she? Did she threaten you in any way?"

"I'm not sure what she did, exactly," Cedric admitted, frowning at Percy's implications. "It all happened so fast and was over quickly. She just started casting powerful spells, driving off or injuring the merpeople. There was a lot of blood in the water, so I know she injured some. So did I, I'm sure, because soon after she began casting spells I joined her. Once we drove them all off, we finished freeing the hostages and came back here as quickly as possible."

Amos pulled his son into a sideways hug. "I'm really proud of you, Cedric, really proud. And I promise I'll look into what happened down there. In all the years I've worked in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, I've never heard of merpeople acting like that."

"Never?" Cedric asked.

Amos shook his head and replied, "No, never. They aren't usually violent at all. At least, not unless threatened in any way. And you champions didn't...?"

"No!" Cedric exclaimed.

"I didn't think so," Amos said. "Which is why I'm so concerned." He turned to Dumbledore to continue, "You wouldn't know why they'd suddenly behave so violently, would you?"

Before Dumbledore could respond, the French champion marched up and shouted, "Who was responsible for putting my sister down zere? And who was responsible for putting 'er to sleep?"

"Madam Maxime chose her to help you," Dumbledore said in an effort to calm the enraged witch, "and I cast the spell to put her in an enchanted sleep."

"Zen you are both criminally negligent!" she cried out, causing gasps of shock from the growing crowd around them. "You, 'eadmistress, 'ad no right to get 'er to participate in zis tournament! And you, 'eadmaster, failed in your spell because she was waking up when we got zere. If it 'ad not been for Jasmine Potter, my sister would be dead! Murdered! And it would be your fault!"

Everyone in the crowd was horrified at what they were hearing. They had been more than willing to believe that Dumbledore would keep everyone safe, but now they were learning that a little girl almost died. "I only asked 'er if she wanted to 'elp," Maxime said in an attempt to defend herself.

"It does not matter," Fleur interrupted. "You 'ave no authority to send 'er to the bottom of an ice-cold lake in February. Only our maman can give permission to do zat, and she would never do so. You will be 'earing from her and my grandmere about zis!" Maxime blanched at that, apparently knowing how much trouble the Delacour family could make for her.

"You will be 'earing from zem also, Dumbledore," Fleur added before turning around and stalking back to where her sister was still sitting with Hermione and Jasmine. Igor Karkaroff looked rather smug at seeing Dumbledore being taken down several notches, and Maxime appeared to be in trouble, too. He smirked, seemingly pleased that the person he had picked to be Krum's hostage had no political connections that could cause similar problems for him. He had been a bit annoyed at first when Albus told him that he wanted to use Krum's original hostage for someone else, forcing him to pick a Durmstrang hostage at the last minute, but now he was glad for the earlier inconvenience.

"This is a bad business, Albus," Bagman said, shaking his head. "This could cause an international incident, and we're already having problems on the international scene because of what happened at the World Cup. This tournament was supposed to repair our reputation, not ruin it even further! What in Merlin's name were you thinking?"

Assailed on all sides now, all Dumbledore could do was try to deflect. "This isn't the time for these arguments," he announced. "We need to focus on scoring the task so we can move on."

Judging by the grumbles, most seemed to recognize what he was trying to do, but they also couldn't deny that scoring the task was necessary - not to mention complicated due to how the champions had chosen to complete it. Only Bagman seemed eager to get to the scoring.

Once all of the judges had separated themselves, they spent more than twenty minutes arguing over how to score the competitors. They called over each of the champions to interview them - all except Jasmine, that is, who refused to leave Hermione's side. She couldn't have cared less what score she received and therefore was unconcerned with how her refusal to meet with the judges would affect their decisions.

* * *

 **Wednesday, February 24, 1995, 11:12 AM.**

All during this, Jasmine and Hermione remained huddled together under their blanket, with Gabrielle continuing to doze in Jasmine's lap and her arms wrapped around Jasmine's middle. Fleur, when she wasn't berating this or that tournament official, crouched either by Jasmine's or Hermione's side, usually with one arm wrapped around them. She would have preferred it if she could have been the one to hold her sister, but she wouldn't deny Gabrielle the chance to be so close to her heroine and now her personal savior.

She had never mentioned it to the two English witches, but her sister had long idolized Jasmine Potter, the Girl Who Lived, looking up to her as a role model for herself and witches generally. Fleur knew that Jasmine would have instantly rejected such treatment, especially since it was due to something that had happened when she was a toddler, so Fleur realized that this might be Gabrielle's only chance to revel in a little hero-worship.

"Jasmine, why are we staying here?" Hermione eventually asked.

"We're waiting for the scores?"

"Right," Hermione said. "And do you care what your score is?"

"Nope," Jasmine responded, starting to see her point. Looking down at the blonde barnacle in her lap she nudged her a couple of times to wake her up. Once she had the girl's attention, she smiled and asked, "Wanna blow this popsicle joint?"

"Quoi?" Gabrielle asked, completely befuddled and not even entirely awake yet.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Jas, don't confuse the poor girl. She's had a hard enough day as it is." She smiled at the little veela and explained, "What this crazy witch means is, are you ready to leave?"

"Ah - oui!" she answered, beaming, so they all stood up and started making their way back to the castle while Fleur continued to hover close, unwilling to let her little sister get too far out of her sight. Somehow Gabrielle managed to worm her way in between Jasmine and Hermione, wrapping her arms around both their waists.

Dumbledore didn't observe this because at the time he was at the edge of the lake, trying to find out from one of the merpeople what their version of events was. The other judges and officials were too focused on arguing with each other to pick up on it, either.

But their departure didn't go completely unnoticed. Ron and Neville were the first to see, since they had kept their eyes on their Gryffindor friends as much as possible, and they quickly followed. Cedric and Viktor noticed shortly thereafter and also followed. None of the champions cared very much at this point what their scores were, though they were admittedly more curious than Jasmine was.

Amos Diggory didn't understand his son's attitude, but he realized that there was more going on than he knew about and let him go, choosing to stay behind to get the scores and learn what he could.

"You didn't get breakfast, did you, 'ermione?" Fleur asked after a couple of minutes.

"No, actually, I didn't," she answered. Her stomach chose that moment to growl loudly, causing Gabrielle to break out into giggles.

"It's almost lunch time," Jasmine pointed out, smiling down at Gabrielle, "and I think we would all benefit from something to eat."

Now with a purpose other than to simply get away from the lake and the competition, everyone started walking a little more briskly towards the castle.

* * *

Minerva McGonagall felt that she was at a crossroads. Watching Jasmine and Hermione leave, followed closely not only by their two Gryffindor friends, but even by the other Triwizard champions, she realized that she had a choice to make.

She could follow as well, showing support for the girls and offering what comfort she could while apologizing for not having been able to stop Hermione's kidnapping. If she so obviously took their side, however, the Headmaster might be less likely to trust her going forward. On the other hand, if she stayed, she might retain the Headmaster's confidence, but she risked breaking the trust she'd worked so hard to build with the girls over the past weeks.

Albus liked to preach about making the choice between what was right and what was easy, yet while it sounded nice in principle, it didn't offer any guidance in distinguishing which was which. Sometimes both choices seemed right; sometimes both choices were hard.

Finally, Minerva made her decision and hurried to catch up with her Gryffindors and the champions. Regardless of what happened with Albus, the girls needed some adult support. For years she had been telling every new group of students that the house they were sorted into became their family. This made their head of house like a parent.

Well, it was high time she started acting like one for her surrogate Gryffindor family.

* * *

Finally, the judges stopped arguing, and Dumbledore called for everyone's attention. "After much debate and careful deliberation, we have come to a decision about how to score the champions. Because they chose to work together, we will be giving each of them a single score instead of separate scores from each judge."

The crowd stopped talking and started paying attention, hoping to learn more about what had happened. Dumbledore looked around and noticed that none of the students in question were visible. Frowning, he turned to the other judges and asked, "Do any of you know where the champions are?"

Now they all started looking around, but without success. "Has anyone seen the champions?" Bagman asked the crowd.

"They all went up to the castle," Amos told them.

"Without waiting to hear our decision?" Percy asked, outraged. "This is about them. They need to be here."

Amos shrugged and responded, "I don't think any of them care very much at this point. Their goal was to rescue all of the hostages, not win the task."

"That is unacceptable!" Karkaroff said with a scowl. "Someone has been interfering with Viktor!"

"No," Amos said, "He looked quite eager to join the others. They all struck me as very close to each other."

Karkaroff continued to grumble, and Maxime simply looked troubled, unwilling to meet anyone else's eyes.

Resigned, Dumbledore continued with his planned announcement, even though none of the most important audience was around to hear him. "Fleur Delacour, because she was unable to participate in most of the rescue, is in last place with thirty points. Viktor Krum, who performed an excellent self-transfiguration, is next at forty-five points. Cedric Diggory, who used the bubblehead charm and participated in a fight with the merpeople, also receives forty-five points. Jasmine Potter, who cast several impressive spells and came back with three incapacitated people, is in first place with forty-eight points."

After giving the crowd a chance to talk about that, he continued, "I'd just like to dispel any rumors now and say that the fight with the merpeople was due to an unfortunate misunderstanding. They did not intend to attack the champions, but rather to ensure that the champions did not take the wrong hostages. They appeared hostile and their intentions were misunderstood. The problem with the hostage for the Beauxbatons champion was also a mistake. They realize that now, however, and since none were injured very seriously, they do not blame any of our champions and hold no ill will towards any of us. They accept that there was fault on both sides."

With those words, everyone walked away with the conclusion that there had never been any serious danger for the hostages - it had all been just a misunderstanding, after all. It didn't occur to anyone that the misunderstanding with the merpeople had nothing to do with what happened to Gabrielle Delacour, or that the danger she had been in had not been addressed. Instead, they simply assumed that the Headmaster had taken care of everything.

* * *

 **A/N:** No, this will **not** be a multi-pairing fic. As you will have noticed by now, there are many different kinds of bonds in the magical world, all involving glowing magical lights. A bond has formed here, yes, but it's not like the one between Jasmine and Hermione. It's actually much more interesting than that.


	39. We Are Family

**Recommendation** : This chapter's recommended fic is "The Lost Summer" by Belcris. After winning the war, Harry decides to take a vacation in France. Harry being Harry, things get a little out of control. Short, fluffy, and funny. Not for Ron or Ginny fans. Harry/Hermione/Others.

* * *

 **Chapter 39 - We Are Family**

 **Wednesday, February 24, 1995, 11:30 AM.**

It was a fairly subdued group that sat at the Gryffindor table eating an early lunch organized by Dobby and Winky, the house elves which Jasmine and Hermione had adopted, who had been fussing over their mistresses like mother hens. They all had a lot to talk about, but none of them were quite ready to start any of the conversations they needed to have. Instead, they all seemed content simply to take comfort in the presence of the others. Only two were related by blood, but all were feeling more like family than they ever had before.

Some were in fact feeling far closer than others, though not all of them realized it yet.

"Fleur, did you mean what you said to Dumbledore?" Jasmine asked.

"You mean, about my maman and grandmere complaining to 'im... and about 'im?" Fleur responded. "Oui, very much. Zey will not tolerate my sister being treated like she was."

"Will anyone listen to their complaints, though?" Hermione asked. "You've mentioned more than once about how veela are regarded."

"Oh, I zink zey will be 'eard," Fleur said with a sly smile. "Ze veela in France are treated well by ze magical government zere. We still suffer from prejudice, but ze upper echelons of government and commerce 'ave worked closely with ze veela enclaves for centuries. When we complain, ze French magical government will complain, and ze British magical government will 'ave to listen."

Fleur reached over and put a hand on Hermione's shoulder. "Zey will complain about what 'appened to my sister, but I zink zey will also talk about what 'appened to you. Ze 'eadmaster should not 'ave done zat to you without your permission. Zough whether ze British actually do anything eez another matter."

Jasmine smiled, happy to see that someone else was willing to be as protective of Hermione as she was. _Now if I can just stop thinking about how to best mutilate and destroy Dumbledore_ , she thought, _maybe I can finally relax a bit..._

* * *

Minerva McGonagall surprised herself as well as the others when she decided to sit with the group at the Gryffindor table instead of up at the staff table. Such an act by one of the Hogwarts staff was unheard of — separation between students and staff was a longstanding tradition, and while not a written rule, it had been strictly followed for as long as anyone could remember.

 _In for a knut, in for a galleon,_ Minerva had thought as she sat down, struck by how much better she felt since deciding to publicly support the girls a short while before. The feeling stood in sharp contrast to how she had felt for the previous twelve hours.

"When did you learn about Hermione being Jasmine's hostage, Professor?" Neville asked her. She couldn't detect any reproach in his voice, but she was sure that he had it in mind.

"I only learned the identity of the final hostages late last night," she responded, "which was also when I found Miss Granger stunned in the Headmaster's office."

"Who did that?" Neville asked before she could continue.

"I'm afraid I don't know," Minerva said darkly. "If I find out, I'll be sure to tell her. By that point there was nothing I could do to make him change his mind. It was probably too late anyway, though I did tell him that he was making a big mistake by ignoring her wishes and refusing to contact her guardians."

Neville shook his head in frustration. "Unfortunately, as a muggleborn she doesn't have enough political clout to force people to care about what happens to her. I'll write to my gran to tell her about all this and let her know how I feel, but I doubt there's much she can do, either."

He chewed thoughtfully for a moment, then added, "Thanks, by the way, for coming back to the castle with us. I'd have expected you to stay with the staff and wouldn't have blamed you, but I know we all appreciate it." Cedric and Viktor, who were listening in because they, too, were eager to find out how the hostages had been taken, both expressed their agreement with Neville.

Minerva smiled, pleased to see that her choice was having an impact.

* * *

The only one in a truly upbeat mood was Gabrielle Delacour. Despite having just recently survived nearly drowning at the bottom of the Black Lake and floating helpless while the others fought off an attack by the merpeople, she was chattering away at everyone as though nothing could possibly bring her down. She seemed to be the very definition of irrepressible, and she was lightening the mood of all those around her.

"So," the little veela said as she turned and smiled at the redheaded boy next to her, "are you friends with 'Ermione and Jasmine? Are you friends with my sister, too? How long have you known zem? My sister says zat zey are very nice, and she seems to like zem. She always has good zings to say about zem. I met zem a month ago, zough not for very long. What did you say your name was?"

Ron blinked at the barrage of questions, wondering where to start. Ordinarily he might not be inclined to chat with a little kid, but she was so bubbly and happy that he couldn't bring himself to brush her off. There was also the fact that he didn't want to upset the younger sister of the veela champion, seeing how protective of her she was.

"Uh," he said hesitantly, "I've known Hermione and Jasmine since first year. We met on our first train ride to Hogwarts, actually, and we've been friends ever since Jasmine and I saved Hermione from a troll on Halloween of our first year." Gabrielle's eyes lit up, eager to hear more about the adventures of her heroine.

Under other circumstances, Ron might have started to brag a bit and inflate his role in their exploits. Recent experiences, however, had begun to have an effect on him. "Well, to be honest it was more Jasmine who saved Hermione than me," he admitted. "And it was my fault she was in the bathroom to begin with. I had said some awful things to her earlier in the day, and she ran in there to cry." Gabrielle frowned at this, not happy that he had upset Hermione, a girl she'd heard so many good things about.

Ron shot a glance at his friends, who appeared to be engrossed in their conversation with Fleur. "I also said some even more awful things to both of them when this tournament started," he said quietly, now looking very embarrassed. "I was a right prat to them, and for a while they didn't want to be my friends anymore. I should never have said those things, and I wish I could go back in time and slap myself. Before, they were my best friends — they were like my sisters. Now, though..." he trailed off dejectedly.

Gabrielle looked pensive. "Well, you are sorry for what you did, yes?" He nodded glumly. "And you apologized to zem for it, yes?"

"Well," Ron said reluctantly, "sorta. I'm rubbish at that sort of thing, so I guess it wasn't a very good apology."

"You 'ave to apologize if you really are sorry," Gabrielle insisted. "Otherwise, how can zey know for sure? If you are zeir friend, you must tell zem you are sorry; if zey are your friends, zey will forgive you — but only if you are sincere. Zen you can be together again!"

Ron was thoughtful for a moment, then nodded and held out his hand. "I'm Ron Weasley, by the way — pleased to meet you."

Gabrielle beamed as she took his hand. "I'm Gabrielle Delacour. Friends?"

"Friends," he replied with a grin.

Jasmine and Hermione, who hadn't been quite as absorbed in their conversation as Ron had thought, gave each other knowing smiles.

* * *

 **Wednesday, February 24, 1995, Afternoon.**

Albus Dumbledore stood over the pensieve in his office while he gently extracted yet another memory. He desperately wanted to talk to Jasmine Potter — well, he wanted to talk to all of those who had been involved in the fiasco that morning, but Jasmine Potter was at the top of his list. However, he needed to be as prepared as possible before any such interview, and to accomplish that, he needed to carefully review all relevant memories.

This included not just his memories of the events of last night and the following morning, but also his memories of other related events in recent weeks. _Something odd has been going on_ , Dumbledore thought, _and much of it centers around Miss Potter. She must know and is likely involved, especially given how much power she seemed to be exhibiting this morning. In order to find out more myself, I need to know what questions to ask and how to word them._

Fawkes trilled mournfully from his perch.

* * *

Fleur was writing furiously, desperate to get a letter off to her family. _Merde! Putain de tournoi! Putain de directeur! My family had better start talking to me_ , she fumed silently, _because Gabrielle and I are now neck-deep in whatever is going on, and we can't afford to be kept ignorant any longer!_

Her sister was stretched out lazily on their bed, quietly reading and completely unaware of the true problems that had arisen earlier that day. She thought that Fleur was writing to their family about her being taken as a hostage without proper permission, and Fleur was indeed doing that, but that wasn't all she was writing. _Apparently, Gabrielle either didn't see the glow that touched us both or failed to recognize it as something significant._

Fleur did recognize it as significant. She couldn't tell exactly what it was, but based on what she knew, she suspected that it was the glow that should normally be associated with a developing _special_ bond. That didn't really explain anything, though — such bonds existed within couples, so how could it encompass and affect her and her sister? Even the fact that the bond seemed to be getting stronger between Jasmine and Hermione shouldn't matter. It just didn't make sense, and she didn't want to tell her sister anything until she understood it herself.

 _Grandmere is an expert, so she should understand and be able to explain what's happened to us… and she'd better start talking, because I am running out of patience!_

* * *

Viktor Krum sat stoically, his arms crossed over his chest, as his headmaster ranted and raved at him about the importance of beating rather than joining the competition. Karkaroff was clearly outraged that Viktor had chosen to put the hostages over his own standing in the tournament, but his attempts to argue that such action would harm his Quidditch career and undermine his fan base were just laughable. Karkaroff honestly didn't realize that such selflessness and teamwork would make him more appealing, not less.

Then again, he had always known that Karkaroff was a selfish _kreten_ , only interested in himself and his own goals. Karkaroff needed Krum more than Krum needed Karkaroff, and they both knew it. Krum was only listening to his headmaster's temper tantrum in order to humor him, not because he had to or because he actually felt chastened — and that only made his headmaster angrier.

Eventually, Viktor simply stood up and walked out without saying a word. He was tired of listening to the man's useless whinging. He was proud of what he had done and would do it again in a heartbeat. Despite the mistakes they had all made, he had enjoyed working with the other champions and recognized that they all had a lot of potential. It was like working with a promising Quidditch team that had a lot of great players, but needed to practice their teamwork.

If Viktor was sorry about anything, it was the fact that he hadn't thought of the plan to work together himself.

 _Come to think of it_ , he mused as he walked back to his quarters on the Durmstrang ship, _I wonder if I should propose something similar for the final task? There won't be any hostages again, I assume, but how would the others react to the idea of a joint, four-way victory? None of the officials or judges can object, since this tournament is supposed to be about international cooperation — and if we all cooperate, aren't we keeping with the spirit of the event?_

Viktor Krum would spend a great deal of time thinking about that over the rest of the day.

* * *

Cedric Diggory sat with his father in Professor Sprout's office, only half listening as the two adults talked about the Triwizard Tournament, Albus Dumbledore, suspicious events that had been happening in Hogwarts over the past couple of years, and more. In truth, they were all things that he knew he should care about, but he couldn't seem to concentrate on any of them.

Instead, he kept finding himself returning to events under the lake — how they had all worked together to free the hostages, how they had made mistakes in both planning and execution, how Pott... no, Jasmine... had been the first to react to perceived danger and started dealing with it in such a decisive manner, and how they all had had to work together to get everyone back safe and sound.

He'd meant it when he told his father that Jasmine was a better Hufflepuff than some of the people sorted into his house. It made him a bit ashamed about his house, but also proud that she had chosen to confide in him and ask him to join her plan for the champions to work together. He hoped they could do so again — he liked the feeling of working as a team like that.

 _I wonder if the others would be willing to work together again for the final task?_ he thought to himself. _I know Jasmine doesn't care about points or winning, and right now I'm finding that I really don't, either. If I'm going to win, I'd like the victory to mean something, and I think it would mean a lot more if all four of us are holding up the trophy together than if I'm just holding it alone._

For the rest of the day and well into the night, Cedric Diggory considered how he might convince the others that this was a good idea.

* * *

Neville Longbottom and the four Weasleys all sat in the Gryffindor common room, each lost in their own thoughts about what had happened that morning. Despite their experience with the sorts of adventures that Jasmine Potter invariably got herself involved in, the events of the day had been a bit heavier and more complex than they were accustomed to, and they weren't sure what to do about it all.

Ron's thoughts were the most complex, especially for him. He was pretty sure that he had been seriously told off by that little veela at lunch. Granted, she did so in an incredibly polite and sweet way, but he could see the criticism behind the veil of bubbly happiness, and the fact that it took a little kid to force him to face his errors didn't make him feel any better about it.

Nevertheless, he couldn't deny that she had been right. He needed to apologize — really, sincerely apologize — and he needed to do it soon. This meant he had to open up to a degree he'd never done before, not even to himself, and he wasn't sure if he could do it.

Neville pondered the changes that Jasmine's and Hermione's relationship were starting to produce in the castle. He had to admit, he had been more than a bit uncomfortable about it in the beginning — it just wasn't the way things were done. Yet now that he had had time to get used to the idea, it seemed like it wasn't such an earth-shattering thing after all. Oh, sure, there was a major secret that now had to be protected; still, he suspected there was always a bit of weirdness when two long-time friends suddenly became a couple, and that was probably true whether they were same-sex or not. In the end, it just didn't affect him that much, and he was beginning to wonder what all the fuss had ever been about.

It was the changes outside their relationship that were more significant, in his opinion. First there was Professor McGonagall, who finally seemed to be stepping up and fulfilling some of the responsibilities to her house that she had been neglecting. Then there was the way all three of the other champions had publicly stood up to Dumbledore and defended Jasmine. Well, he supposed that might not be the result of the girls' relationship as such, but it did seem like their long stint as social outcasts was finally starting to turn around, and it appeared to start at about the time they got together. The inter-house study group was another example. Somehow those two witches had a knack for changing minds, as he himself had experienced.

Neville sighed. _I really ought to write to Gran about what happened today_ , he realized. _She'll find out anyway, but she'll appreciate a first-hand account, especially if I can emphasize certain portions that she'll be most interested in. And I'll want to get her to think about what we might do to protect Hermione going forward._

The Weasley twins were thinking about how there was almost certainly more going on than they had been told. Jasmine and Hermione had always been close, but recently they seemed to be closer than ever. Her reaction to Hermione's absence had gone well beyond anything they would have expected from her before. Ron was distant from the two witches, but that at least they understood and hoped their little brother got his act together before he lost their friendship permanently.

Neville was acting a bit odd, too — he had gone to the Yule Ball as Jasmine's date, but they couldn't detect the slightest bit of romance between them. He also seemed to give the two witches knowing looks now and again. In fact, Ginny seemed to be giving them similar looks, which suggested that both of them knew something that they weren't telling anyone else. Unfortunately, neither would be easy to pressure.

Which meant it was time for a spot of information-gathering.

Ginny, for her part, was still trying to deal with her feelings about Jasmine and Hermione. She hadn't gotten any less uncomfortable with the idea of them being a romantic couple, yet she still wanted to help them as much as possible despite that discomfort. If anything, this internal conflict had only been getting worse, and she realized that she needed to deal with it before she said or did something inappropriate.

But what? That was a question she had no answer to.

* * *

Unlike everyone else, Hermione and Jasmine weren't consumed by deep, complex thoughts. In fact, they weren't thinking much at all. After lunch, they had thanked everyone both for their help and for joining them at lunch, then had taken their leave and headed directly for the Room of Requirement, where Hermione had brought out her Hot Tub Grotto.

They hadn't even bothered to stop by the common room for swimsuits — Jasmine was already wearing one under her robes, and they figured that the Room might be able to provide something for Hermione. But as they neared their destination, Jasmine realized with dismay that her suit still reeked of the Black Lake. Suddenly she wanted more than anything just to get out of it, and she hoped that there might be a swimsuit available for her, too.

What they got was a selection of bikinis in the individual dressing rooms. Neither witch was entirely comfortable with wearing a swimsuit quite that revealing and wondered why the room had provided them, but they both decided to take the plunge, so to speak, and wear one anyway.

Upon leaving the dressing rooms, both stopped and just stared at each other, drinking in what each considered to be an amazing sight. Once they had made their way over to the "hot tub," they found a selection of drinks and snacks waiting for them, including oysters with a spicy avocado sauce. Again. They ignored the food, though, and focused instead on each other — talking, cuddling, and occasionally snogging — for the rest of the afternoon.

Neither noticed the pair of house elves hiding in a darkened corner while they watched to see if their creative additions to the Room were bearing fruit for their mistresses' relationship.

* * *

 **Wednesday, February 24, 1995, Evening.**

"Jasmine? Hermione?" Ron said hesitantly as he stood beside the table they were working at. "Can I talk to you two? Uh, alone?" The last was said with a quick look to Neville and Ginny, who in turn gave questioning looks to the first two witches to see what they wanted to do.

Jasmine and Hermione looked at Ron, then looked at each other. Jasmine raised an eyebrow — _Shall we talk to him?_

Hermione shrugged. _I guess so. We were expecting this._

Jasmine smiled. _I know, but I don't want to make it too easy for him._

Hermione rolled her eyes, then turned to Ron to say, "Sure, we can talk." She looked over at Neville and Ginny, who quickly said that they'd leave them alone for a little bit, gathering up their books and going over to a nearby couch to work.

Ron was silent for a long moment after he sat down, just staring at the table, but finally he looked up at his two former best friends and said, "The first time I apologized to you, I didn't do such a great job — I know that now. I want to try again, but I think I need to explain some things about how I was acting."

"I think we know that you were jealous," Jasmine started to respond, but Ron interrupted her almost immediately.

"No, no," he insisted, "I didn't act that way because I was jealous."

"What? But you seemed to be," Hermione objected.

"I'll admit that I've occasionally been jealous of Jasmine," Ron replied, "but to be jealous about her being a Triwizard Champion would mean that I'd want to be one myself."

"Didn't you?" Jasmine said "I remember you mooning over the thought of getting a thousand galleons and becoming famous. Hermione tried to remind you that no one remembered any of the previous champions, and tried to argue that risking your life for a thousand galleons wasn't really worth it."

"Yeah," Ron said, "and money and fame have at times been a sore spot for me, but not in this case. I knew I didn't stand a chance as a champion. Those were just idle fantasies, so it didn't matter to me that they weren't realistic. A guy can fantasize occasionally, yeah?"

"Then why did you act the way you did when my name came out of the Goblet of Fire?" Jasmine asked, confused now.

Sighing deeply, Ron said softly, "I... I was afraid of being left behind."

"What do you mean?" Hermione asked.

"I was afraid that you two would leave me behind," Ron said a little more firmly. "I was afraid that the two of you would start going on adventures without me, that you'd decide you didn't need Ron Weasley anymore. That it would no longer be the three of us together, like it was from the beginning. I tend to feel like just a sidekick for the Girl Who Lived, like I'm standing in your shadow all the time, but it's still better than being a nobody, which is what I'd end up being without you." The pained look on Ron's face made it clear just how hard it was for him to admit all of this — and how much harder it was on him to think that he couldn't be anything special without them.

"Why did you think we'd leave you behind at all?" Jasmine asked.

"Well, it already started last year, didn't it?" Ron said, a little heat edging into his voice. "I know you two went and did something outside the hospital wing without me and didn't tell me anything. It was eating at me all last summer. I kept imagining you two always off doing something fun and exciting while I was stuck forever tossing gnomes or cleaning the chicken coop. It's bad enough knowing that my older brothers are always off doing something exciting, but the thought of being left behind by my own best friends just about killed me."

Sighing again when he saw them give each other a knowing glance, he continued, "Look, I know that you two are closer to each other than either of you are to me — than either of you ever will be to me. No, don't deny it; but I'm not upset about that. It's only natural that you two would be closer. You're both girls, after all. If Jasmine had been born a boy, I figure she and I would be closer to each other than either of us would be with you, Hermione."

Jasmine scrunched up her face in disgust at that mental image. _A boy?_ _ **Me?**_ _How revolting!_

Hermione saw her distress and refused to take it seriously. "Just think of how much fun you'd have as a boy, Jas! You could fart and belch all you want. You could lie around in your underwear and scratch yourself in inappropriate places. You could stand up to pee. You could goof off playing exploding snap. You could develop a crush on Ron's little sister..."

"Merlin, Hermione, keep that sort of thing to yourself!" Jasmine said in a hoarse whisper. "I'm going to have to have myself obliviated now!"

Ron chuckled at their antics before trying to bring the conversation back to the original topic. "So you see, I wasn't jealous, I was... scared. And I guess I took it out on you. I was wrong and stupid, but not for the reasons you thought I was. I'm not saying that my actual reasons make it all OK — they don't. I just wanted you to understand, yeah?"

"That's... that's actually quite insightful, Ron," Hermione said, more than a little impressed.

"Always the tone of surprise..." Ron griped, but the rueful smile he gave them belied his tone.

Jasmine sighed. "I guess I can understand your reasoning, Ron. And you're right, it doesn't make it OK, but understanding it better will, I think, make it easier to get past all this."

"But Ron, I don't think you should see us as your only means for standing out or being special," Hermione put in. "You shouldn't compare yourself to Jasmine — she's a unique case. Instead, you should focus on the things you like to do and can do well. Focus on where you want to be in a couple of decades and what it will take to get there."

"I don't want anyone to feel miserable and trapped in my shadow," Jasmine said. "I don't even want a shadow like that. But I'll tell you right now, Ron, the only reason you'll be there is if you let yourself."

"That's right, Ron," Hermione continued. "I know that I'm sometimes probably overlooked because I'm in her shadow, but I never feel like I'm trapped there. I do my own things and am recognized for them."

"Yeah, but you're brilliant," Ron protested. "Of course you're recognized for that!"

"And you've got your own things to be proud of," Jasmine responded firmly (though privately hoping that he wouldn't ask her to list them because, in all honesty, skill at chess and having memorized the history of the Chudley Cannons weren't things she thought she could put a very positive spin on).

"And if none of that is enough," Hermione added, almost as if she read Jasmine's mind and was trying to help, "then it's up to you to find more. You're capable of it, you just need to figure out what you want."

"And we'll help," Jasmine said, "because that's what friends do."

Ron smiled now, recognizing that last statement as the acceptance he was hoping for. "I guess you're right, I do need to find something for myself instead of just staying in your shadow and growing to resent you for it." After thinking a bit, he continued, "I know we can't go back to the way we were before, at least not right away, but I'd like to try to make it up to you. Like... maybe helping you out with the last task?" The question was asked in a very hopeful voice.

"I think we can probably work something out," Jasmine said carefully, not wanting to dash his hopes but reluctant to agree outright. "We don't know yet what it will be, so we don't know what I might need to do in order to prepare."

"Brilliant!" Ron said, happier than he had been in a long time. "I won't push, though. And I'll let you get back to what you were doing." After he got up and left, Neville and Ginny returned to their seats at the table.

"So, how'd it go?" Ginny asked. "Better than last time?"

"Yes, loads better," Hermione said, smiling slightly.

"And now he wants to help me prepare for the final task," Jasmine added, smiling a bit less.

Neville and Ginny looked at each other, both recognizing the sorts of problems that could cause.

"Did you say yes?" Neville asked.

"We didn't quite say yes or no," Hermione admitted. Ginny raised a questioning eyebrow at that.

"We left it open, but gave him reason to be optimistic," Jasmine added. "We don't even know yet what I'll need to do to prepare. For all we know, there won't be any way for you to help, never mind him."

"Regardless, we wanted to talk to the two of you first," Hermione said, "to figure out how well it would work and what we'd need to do in order to, uh, you know, keep certain things secret." The last bit she said very softly.

None of them noticed the flesh-colored bit of string that had been lying under their table and which now started to withdraw towards another part of the common room.

* * *

 **Wednesday, February 24, 1995, Night.**

Peter Pettigrew groaned in exhaustion as he slowly lowered himself down onto the piece of floor he was forced to call his bed. The day had been one of the worst he'd experienced in a while. His master had started feeling uncomfortable the night before for some reason, and then that morning he'd been in a rage, though even he couldn't figure out why. He wasn't in pain, and nothing specific had happened, but that hadn't stopped the Dark Lord from using the _Cruciatus_ on him. Repeatedly. And what was worse, his curses seemed to be back at full power, too.

Then, starting late in the morning and continuing through the afternoon, the Dark Lord had been howling in pain. The pain had been enough to prevent him from continuing to torture Peter, though Peter was careful not to append the sentiment "luckily" to the beginning of that thought: even in his ugly little baby form, he was still a master legilimens and would easily find that thought if Peter allowed it to fully develop.

As he drifted off to sleep, he wished desperately that his situation might improve on the morrow, and wished even more that he had never betrayed his brothers in order to become a slave to the Dark Lord.


	40. News of the Magical World

**Recommendation** : This chapter's recommended fic is "Harry Potter on His Own" by Xavras. Feeling alone and sidelined after the end of the war, Harry travels to a home he owns in France and takes on a new name in order to remain anonymous. One person hasn't forgotten him, though, and is determined to track him down. H/Hr.

* * *

 **Chapter 40 - News of the Magical World**

 **Thursday, February 25, 1995, Morning.**

Jasmine didn't know whether to be pleased or annoyed by the headline story of the _Daily Prophet:_

" **TRIWIZARD TERROR: CHAMPIONS AND HOSTAGES ENDANGERED!** "

On the one hand, it informed everyone about how Jasmine had been entered into the tournament against her will, how dangerous the tournament was, and how the champions had so little trust in the tournament officials that they had felt compelled to band together to ensure the safe rescue of the hostages — a decision that was revealed as wise, given the perceived attack by the merpeople. The story even criticized Headmaster Dumbledore, though not as much as Jasmine thought would have been justified.

On the other hand, all of this was explained with lurid prose and a sensationalistic style that made Jasmine reflexively doubt the report's accuracy, despite knowing for a fact that it was all true. Even worse, the story had been written by Rita Skeeter, a reporter whom Jasmine had grown to almost hate, especially after the fiasco of a meeting during the Weighing of the Wands.

All of those problems aside, what bothered her the most was how close she and Hermione were depicted as being. Luckily that wasn't the focus of the story, and their closeness was simply implied as part of describing the events that occurred. Nevertheless, Jasmine was feeling paranoid about keeping their relationship secret and shuddered to think of what might happen if Skeeter ever even suspected the truth about their sexual orientation.

"Well, it could have been a lot worse," Hermione offered after reading the story over Jasmine's shoulder while they both sat eating breakfast in the Great Hall. "I'm actually a bit surprised that she managed to fit that much truth into one of her stories. I hope she didn't strain anything from the effort."

Jasmine snorted. "It's probably because the story was sensationalistic enough that the truth actually sufficed this time. It looks like all she felt she needed to do was exaggerate a bit in her wording."

"Yeah," Hermione agreed, "It shows that she hasn't actually changed, just that she's willing to print the truth when it's nasty enough."

"Which makes me wonder," Jasmine said, "why there isn't more here criticizing Dumbledore. The danger Gabrielle was put in isn't mentioned, like her life doesn't even matter! I mean, if 'nasty and embarrassing' is her basic standard for what she'll write, then why leave out some of the true things about Dumbledore which could have easily been spun as nasty and embarrassing for him?"

Hermione frowned. "That's a good question. It does seem out of character, especially since she didn't leave him out of the story entirely. Maybe she's planning another story focused on him specifically and is saving the juicy bits for then?"

"Maybe," Jasmine said with a frown. "I guess we'll just have to wait and see, but people need to learn what a horrible person he can be — that the whole 'kindly grandfather' thing is more an act than reality."

* * *

While enjoying his own breakfast at the staff table, Albus Dumbledore was also looking over the _Daily Prophet_ , though his thoughts were a bit different. _It's fortunate that I have such a good relationship with the editor_ , he mused, _otherwise I wouldn't have known about this story in advance and been able to get it adjusted._

Dumbledore didn't like interfering with news stories, and he knew that if he did it too often, it would end up causing him even more problems. Every once in a while, though, he found out about a story that needed to be edited or even suppressed. Sometimes it was a story that would reveal certain facts that needed to be kept quiet, lest they become useful to the enemy; other times it was an unflattering story about himself or others leading the fight against the darkness.

In this instance, it was the latter. _Ironic that the first time I've had to do that since the war also turned out to be one of the few times Rita Skeeter bothered to write the truth_ , Dumbledore thought. _And it's unfortunate that I had to promise her a "juicy" story or interview some time in the next year, but it was worth it to prevent my image from being damaged too much. I can't lead people against Tom if they don't trust me._

 _Now, if I can just find a way for that required story to also serve my goals..._

Dumbledore didn't notice the careful, suspicious glances he kept getting from McGonagall and Flitwick. The Charms professor had been the only one who stayed until the very end after the second task, but both knew full well what the whole truth should have been and noticed that it hadn't all been included in the story.

He did, however, notice the angry glares he kept getting from both Miss Potter and Miss Granger, and that worried him.

* * *

 **Thursday, February 25, 1995, Afternoon.**

The teachers and students at Hogwarts weren't the only ones reading the _Daily Prophet_ story with interest. Peter Pettigrew had standing orders to bring his master the wizarding newspaper whenever there were stories relating to Hogwarts, the tournament, Dumbledore, or the Potter brat. Today's headline story was about all of them, so he had rushed to his master's room to make the delivery.

Tom Riddle was pleased with what he read — not pleased enough to forget the horrible pain he had experienced the previous day, but pleased nonetheless. It was always good to see Dumbledore and the Ministry lose face in public, even if not by very much. What didn't please him was the possibility of the Girl Who Lived being put in too much danger.

 _She needs to die by Our hand and Our hand alone — and even then, only after We have used her for Our rebirth ceremony!_ he ranted silently. _She doesn't deserve to have an easy life, but too much danger creates excessive risk. We may have to contact Our servant at Hogwarts and warn him about the penalty for failure._

Riddle didn't give much thought about to how much skill and power must have been required for her to do so much magic while underwater, or how difficult it must have been to convince such a diverse group of champions to work together as a team instead of competing against one another. After all, she was just a little snip of a girl with no particular talent or power. Everything she had done so far had been accomplished because of luck or help from her friends. He had nothing to fear from her.

* * *

Deep within the hidden goblin capital city, the Gatekeeper looked over the new report that had just been received from the London branch of Gringotts. When the first dispatch had been returned with orders to watch for new developments, such a quick turnaround time had not been anticipated. It should have been months, if not years, for something new and significant to develop, but apparently this issue was already more important than anyone had realized.

 _Veela!_ the Gatekeeper thought with a scowl. _What in the name of the Great Goddess could_ _ **they**_ _want with those two witches? And the Delacour clan, to boot! They must think that they know something. But what? And why does it interest them so much? Is this something we need to be concerned with?_

The goblins had a very complicated relationship with the veela. They weren't enemies in the traditional sense, but they were rivals in several fields, most significantly that of enchanting magical objects. Since the goblins treated business like a battle, that meant competitors were enemies on some level. But the veela were also respected because they competed so well against the goblins.

So well, in fact, that several centuries ago the goblins had decided to make a deal whereby the veela would be paid to do the most complex and difficult enchanting of goblin-made items, including some weapons and jewelry. Even centuries later, it still rankled some to have to admit that, despite being a much younger race, the veela could be better at certain types of enchantments — especially complex groups of enchantments, interwoven through a magical artifact with a degree of delicacy and harmony that no one had ever come close to mimicking.

They knew the veela kept the best for themselves, but the goblins got to sell better items than they could enchant on their own while the veela were able to isolate themselves even further, not having to deal directly with as many customers. According to their intelligence, the veela had reached a similar deal with the French government for handling all enchanted objects which the goblins didn't produce.

And then there was the fact that goblin culture had a number of similarities to veela culture — it was probably what had allowed them to deal with each other better than either dealt with human wizards and witches.

So, it was complicated.

But none of that meant that the goblins trusted the veela enough to ignore what they were doing. If the veela were interested in these witches, then the goblins needed to at least find out what was afoot so they wouldn't be caught off guard.

The Gatekeeper reviewed all of the documents again and concluded that the veela probably weren't interested in the two witches because of any obvious financial gain. _If that's the case_ , the Gatekeeper mused, _and we aren't direct competitors, then maybe a more creative approach might be justified._

It was something that hadn't been done in centuries. Many on the Goblin Bet Bel would object to it, preferring to stick to their current, commerce-focused relations. However, maybe its unexpected nature was a good reason to try it. _I'll have to make the case for this to the Bet Bel personally_ , the Gatekeeper concluded, and looked through the calendar to see when the next best date for that would be.

* * *

Sirius dropped the _Daily Prophet_ onto the kitchen table and stared at it for a few more minutes while he contemplated what the headline article might mean for his goddaughter. Eventually he had to shake his head and admit that he still hadn't recovered enough from his time in Azkaban to properly anticipate and scheme. His brain got fuzzy and he got confused too easily. And if he was going to be brutally honest, the firewhiskey probably didn't help, either.

That's why he needed advice; he just wished that he didn't need to get that advice from the portrait of his mother. He wished he could call in Remus, but he was pretty sure that the man felt too beholden to Dumbledore to not tell the headmaster that Sirius was back in town, and he wanted to keep that bit of information secret for as long as possible. Sadly, there wasn't anyone else he could turn to.

Sirius felt certain that damned souls must be ice skating in hell right now.

Walking down the hall with the newspaper in his hand, he tried to figure out which deity he must have offended to be put in the position of not only needing help from his mother, but to be seeking it willingly. _Sweet Merlin,_ Sirius lamented, _I'm actually on the same side of a conflict as my horrid mother!_

"What is it, Sirius?" his mother asked as he approached the portrait. When she was alive she could always tell when he wanted something or was up to something; it was incredibly disconcerting to find that her portrait was the same.

He held up the paper so she could read the headline. "The second task of the Triwizard Tournament was held yesterday. Today's paper has the results, but also some interesting background information."

"Read it to me, then," Walburga's portrait commanded. After Sirius had finished, she started pacing back and forth inside her frame and finally said, "No source is given for the criticisms of the safety of the school or the hostages, but did you notice what was said about Jasmine Dorea?"

Sirius frowned and looked back at the paper. "No," he said slowly.

"She seems to have spent all her time under a blanket and surrounded by her friends," the portrait said. "I'm guessing that she wasn't interviewed and didn't talk to anyone."

"So what?" Sirius asked, annoyed that she would focus on something so trivial.

"Think, boy!" the portrait said sternly. "Azkaban couldn't have damaged your brain that much. Think back to that detailed report you were given by her and her friend. Some of the words and phrasing were almost identical to what Skeeter quoted others as saying!"

Sighing, Sirius said, "OK, you're right, I seem to remember reading some of the same things. But I don't see the importance."

Shaking her head in disappointment, Walburga's portrait continued, "If her words are coming out of someone else's mouth, then she's obviously been talking to people and sharing her concerns. It was probably those champions, since they are described as lashing out at Dumbledore and the tournament organizers."

Nodding, Sirius indicated that he was finally following his mother's train of thought. "So there are others who believe her, even though at the beginning of the tournament everyone thought she cheated and probably wouldn't have believed her about any of this."

"Exactly," Walburga said with a triumphant look on her face. "She's gathering allies and supporters, just like a true daughter of the House of Black. I'm especially impressed because she's doing this despite not having benefited from being raised in our world, never mind raised in our House where she would have been taught these things. Her blood and heritage are truly showing through. Imagine the great things she will achieve once she comes here and is able to get proper instruction..."

If Sirius didn't need her so much, he'd have threatened to burn her portrait for such comments, but he'd been learning patience over the past few weeks. Such comments were actually quite trivial when compared to the sorts of things she'd said while she was alive, so he supposed he could endure them now in exchange for her insights and assistance.

"While it's good to know that she's getting more support in the school, what does it mean for us?" Sirius asked, interrupting another monologue on the superiority of witches born into noble, magical bloodlines.

"If you were free, it would be an extra reason for you to gather allies to use to support her," Walburga said. "But as it is..." She trailed off and sat down on a chair that had been included in her portrait, clearly lost in thought. Sirius didn't disturb her, having already learned that it was best to just let her be when she was like this.

"With the safety of the school in such doubt," she finally said, "I think it's time to try to bring Phineas into our confidence."

"Are you sure?" Sirius asked doubtfully.

"We have to try sometime," she responded. "First, though, I'll have to talk with the portraits of other important members of the Black family. They all have connected portrait frames elsewhere and may be useful. Once that's done, I'll talk to Phineas. I'll have Kreacher bring their frames down here. You should stay away while this is going on — most of them don't like you very much, and this will go easier if you aren't around."

 _Yeah, they don't like me very much because of how you constantly belittled me as I was growing up_ , Sirius wanted to say, but he bit his tongue. He'd let her have her conversations with the other musty old portraits of pureblood bigots from his family. He didn't need to see them anyway.

"Fine," he ground out, "I'll be in the kitchen, then." _Maybe there's still some firewhiskey from last night_ , he added silently.

* * *

 **Thursday, February 25, 1995, Evening.**

The inter-house study group was somewhat subdued when they gathered for the first meeting after the second task. Everyone from outside of Gryffindor was anxious to learn more if they could, but they also knew that Jasmine was sensitive to being pestered about the "adventures" she got caught up in.

For her part, Jasmine knew that as part of building a friendship with them, she needed to learn to not close herself off so much. She even had to admit that friends might sometimes even be able to protect her from the pressures of the outside world. So she needed to find a compromise.

After everyone was done with their assignments and revising, Jasmine drew everyone's attention to herself and said, "I know you're all itching to find out more of what happened under the lake. You also know that I try to avoid attention and talking about myself, but I wouldn't be a very good friend if I refused to tell you anything about me." Several of them smiled at this, happy that she was trying to think of them as friends.

"I can tell you that what was printed in the _Daily Prophet_ was basically accurate," Jasmine continued. "It seemed to be cobbled together from accounts from the other champions, though I'd love to know how Skeeter got all that information because I don't remember seeing her there. I'm willing to answer questions to fill in the blanks, but I'd like to limit it to tonight. I'd rather not be answering questions about this for the next decade. There are a few things that I won't talk about, but only a few. Otherwise, I'll try to be as honest and complete as I can."

Everyone looked at everyone else, not sure who should start. Finally, Blaise Zabini of all people spoke up and said, "Reading between the lines of the article, it sounded like you could do some pretty impressive magic — and underwater, too. Just how magically skilled or strong are you?"

Jasmine smiled thinly and responded, "As it happens, that's one question that I really don't want to go into detail about. Someone entered me into this tournament to harm me — the less that's generally known about what I can do, the better. Let's just say that I've been training and working, and I'm better than the average fourth year. I have to be, just to have a chance at surviving this thing."

Blaise nodded, apparently having expected to hear something like that.

"How did you and the other champions ever decide to work together?" Daphne asked.

"We had occasion to talk to a couple of them about different things," Hermione responded, "and Jasmine asked if they had figured out whom would be taken as a hostage. Everyone was equally appalled at the idea of hostages and agreed at first to share ways of keeping hostages safe. It was Jasmine's idea that the champions work together.."

"And it was a joint effort, too," Jasmine added, trying to shift some of the attention away from herself. "Hermione, Neville, and Ginny all helped me prepare from early on, then they helped later with all the champions." This caused the others to look at the Gryffindors with new respect.

The questioning went on for a little while, and the others got a chance to learn some of the lesser-known details that hadn't been printed in the _Prophet_. It made them all feel special that Jasmine Potter had chosen to confide that sort of thing in them alone.

* * *

 **Friday, February 26, 1995, Afternoon.**

One remarkable feature of Rita Skeeter's article about the second task was the fact that it didn't have anything negative to say about Jasmine. That, however, didn't stop certain Slytherins from finding things in it or in other tales about the event to use to attack her. It certainly didn't stop Professor Snape from using his position to bully and abuse Jasmine.

"Potter!" he called out as he stalked into the potions classroom. "I watched you using gillyweed to compete in the tournament."

"Sir?" she responded, unsure of what the point of his comment was.

"I keep a supply of gillyweed here for use in potions."

"Sir?" she said again, still unsure of what was going on, though she didn't miss the fact that a couple of the Slytherin students were giving each other knowing looks, as if they were aware of what was happening.

"I think you obtained your gillyweed by stealing from my private stores." he asserted as he looked down his hooked nose at her, his black eyes flaring in anger.

"Sir! No professor!" she answered, confused as to why he would think that. Next to her, Hermione started to look worried.

"That seems unlikely," Snape drawled, apparently not believing her, "given that gillyweed is such a rare and expensive magical plant."

"Yes, sir, it is. I had to order it weeks ago, and it cost a lot to get," Jasmine explained, hoping that the full truth would placate her bullying teacher.

"Bragging about your wealth, now, it seems," Snape sneered, easily shifting gears from one line of attack to another as if it were the most natural thing in the world. "Arrogant and pompous, just like your father. Ten points from Gryffindor for talking out of turn in class."

"But... but... I only answered your questions!" she protested.

With an evil smile, he said, "I didn't ask you any questions, Potter. Another ten points from Gryffindor for contradicting a professor." With that, he spun and walked up to the front of the room where, with a flourish of his wand, he revealed the recipe for the day's potion on the board.

"Today you will be learning how to brew the Draught of Strength," he said. "Normally you would have one hour to hand in a completed and acceptable potion, but because of Potter's rude interruption you now have only fifty minutes. Unfortunately, this potion requires fifty-five minutes to brew. To compensate you for this, I will be deducting five points from Gryffindor in Potter's name for every level I have to reduce someone's grade due to their potion not being finished on time."

Snape looked gleefully around the class as the students started realizing what this meant. "Instructions are on the board. Begin!"

Grumbling quietly to herself, Jasmine started grinding up the frozen troll bogies, all the while imagining that they had Snape's face on them.

* * *

 **Saturday, February 27, 1995, Morning.**

When Fleur received a letter from her maman at breakfast, it took all of her willpower to not go running out of the Great Hall so she could immediately read it in private. Instead, she made an effort to finish eating as calmly and normally as possible.

Once locked in her room in the Beauxbatons carriage, however, she eagerly tore open the parchment envelope, and the first thing she noticed was just how short the letter was — not a good sign when one is desperate for answers that were sure to be long and involved. When she unfolded it, she was practically heartbroken at how little there was: "Learn all you can about the experience from their perspective. Do not worry. We are coming."

 _Learn more?_ Fleur asked herself. _I already keep asking them questions without giving any answers in return. They have to be getting tired of it! And how can I not worry?_ _They don't even say who's coming, or when!_ she groused internally. _Well, there's nothing that I can do about it right now. I guess I'll have to see if Hermione and Jasmine will be willing to answer some questions._

* * *

 **Saturday, February 27, 1995, Afternoon.**

It had only been three days since the second task, but Jasmine and Hermione were back to training in the Room of Requirement — and now with Neville and Ginny. Even though the "attack" by the merpeople had only been a misunderstanding, the threat to Gabrielle Delacour had been real, and both had demonstrated the importance of the training the two witches were doing. Silent spellcasting and more powerful spells had already proven their value; the mind arts and wandless spellcasting would probably prove necessary sooner or later.

This afternoon they were focusing on accuracy, and Hermione was getting good enough to let her body move automatically so her mind could return again to the second task and its immediate aftermath.

And something had been troubling her. When she was under the blanket with Jasmine, she had initially found the presence of Gabrielle annoying, especially with her insisting on sitting on Jasmine's lap and inserting herself into their time together. Very soon, however, it didn't bother her at all: on the contrary, it seemed right that she be there for them. And **that** bothered her. _Why would my attitude change like that_ , she wondered, _and especially when it came to someone who was almost a complete stranger?_

She had also noticed that these feelings extended to Fleur as well. _They aren't romantic or sexual feelings — and with Gabrielle, that would be incredibly weird, given how immature she is — but there is something... security? Safety? I can't quite pin it down, and that bothers me, too. Strong, positive feelings like this shouldn't pop up out of nowhere. At least with Fleur we had a friendship developing, but Gabrielle? It just doesn't make any sense!_

Another mystery was the flash of light she thought she had seen as she opened her eyes at the end of the kiss with Jasmine. At the time, she thought it was simply the sun coming between the edges of the blanket, but in retrospect she wasn't so sure. _For some reason, it seemed like the light might have come from_ _ **inside**_ _the blanket. But that isn't possible, is it?_

* * *

 **Saturday, February 27, 1995, Evening.**

Albus Dumbledore sat down heavily behind his desk, tired from all of the time he had spent over the past few days examining and re-examining various memories. It had been a long and tedious process, and now he needed to talk to Jasmine Potter personally.

Pulling out the school calendar to look it over, he decided that the best time to summon Miss Potter for a conversation would be Tuesday before lunch, her normal time for Transfiguration.

 _Better to have her here alone and a little off-balance or nervous_ , he thought, _so that my chances of getting some answers are improved. I can't afford to remain distant and passive with her anymore. It may have only been a misunderstanding, but Miss Potter could have chosen to resolve the situation in the lake nonviolently if she had wanted to; the fact that she immediately began casting offensive spells is worrying._

Sighing as he looked over some of his notes, he considered what he might be able to do to help the young witch. _Something has changed about her, something potentially dangerous, and I need to find out what that is. I can only hope that it doesn't have anything to do with the curse scar or Tom's soul fragment._

Dumbledore had long discounted the possibility of the soul fragment becoming active or exerting any sort of influence on Miss Potter, but after her display of power, anger, and hatred — all directed at him, of all people — he didn't feel quite so confident anymore. If he discovered that he'd been wrong about that, the entire wizarding world would pay for his mistake, one way or the other — .

He took off his half-moon spectacles and rubbed his nose wearily, lamenting the fact that he alone had to bear the responsibility of these secrets. He'd long wished for someone — — with whom he could share these burdens - even just someone he could bounce ideas off of would be a blessing. Unfortunately, every additional person who knew was a security risk, and the stakes were just too high.

No, he'd have to continue doing this alone and hope that the final defeat of Tom Riddle would occur before his own end arrived. He wasn't getting any younger, after all, and the weight of so many secrets and responsibilities was taking its toll.

Leaning forward, he replaced his glasses and reached for a sherbet lemon. _Now_ , he thought, _I just need to work out what questions to ask her…._


	41. The Times They Are A-Changin'

**Recommendation** : This chapter's recommended fic is "Faery Heroes" by SilentlyWatches. First mentioned back in chapter 24, this story is a response to Paladeus's "Champions of Lilith" challenge. Harry, Hermione, and Luna are sent back in time (sort of) to win a war that had gone very, very badly for them. Lunar Harmony.

* * *

 **Chapter 41 - The Times They Are A-Changin'**

 **Sunday, February 28, 1995, Morning.**

Hermione and Jasmine were making their way to their training room because they had received a most welcome letter the night before. Fleur wanted to meet this morning, and while they'd had several meetings with the French champion so far, this was the first time she'd sent an owl late at night, which suggested it was important.

That was fine with them — they were anxious for answers to questions that Hermione had raised the day before. She had been the first to recognize the changes in her feelings towards Fleur and her sister, but as soon as she mentioned it, Jasmine realized that it was true about herself as well. She wasn't bothered quite as much as Hermione, but she was no less interested in finding out why it had happened.

When Hermione saw the look on Fleur's face, however, she guessed she was going to be disappointed by this meeting just like she had been in many others. _I'm really starting to get annoyed by veela_ , Hermione thought sourly.

After they had sat down and served themselves some of the food and drink which always appeared whenever they met, Hermione jumped right in and said, "I'm glad you asked for this meeting, Fleur, because I've got some questions for you about what happened at the end of the second task."

"Oh?" Fleur asked, genuinely surprised. "I wanted to ask you about zat as well. But first, 'ow are you two doing?"

Jasmine sighed heavily. "I'm... getting better, I guess. When we first got out of the lake, I was frankly torn between staying close to Hermione and attacking Dumbledore. It was a near thing, too."

Hermione reached out and squeezed Jasmine's shoulder before saying, "And don't think I haven't noticed how angry you still get sometimes when you see him or when he's mentioned."

Jasmine nodded. "Yeah, I won't deny it. I'm no longer fighting the urge to strangle him with his own beard, but I'm still really angry with him — at least as angry as I've noticed you are, Hermione."

"Nor should you necessarily stop being angry," Fleur said. "What 'e did was 'orrible, but I am glad zat ze anger is diminishing. Too much anger will 'urt you in ze long run." Turning to Hermione, she said, "Now, what were your questions?"

"Well," Hermione said, not doing much to mask the annoyance she felt, "somehow, for some reason, our feelings towards you and your sister have changed. Before, she was a stranger, and you were becoming a friend. Now, though… I'm not really sure how to describe it. You're more familiar. We're more comfortable in your presence. Merlin, Gabrielle was sitting in Jasmine's lap when the two of us needed to comfort each other, and I didn't care! What is going on?"

Hermione's voice had risen steadily throughout, and while she didn't end with shouting, she came close. Fleur looked thoroughly embarrassed, which somehow didn't surprise either of the other two witches.

"Ironically," the French witch responded, "I was going to ask you if you had experienced anything at ze end of ze task. So zat answers my question. As to why... well, I 'ave been wondering zat very zing myself. Our feelings 'ave changed as well. At least, mine 'ave. I zink Gabrielle's 'ave as well, but I 'aven't asked her for details. I don't want to trouble her until I know what is 'appening. I, too, feel more comfortable around you. I also feel very protective of you for some reason. Something 'as changed 'ere, but I don't know what."

"Ugh!" Hermione cried, throwing up her hands while Jasmine crossed her arms as she leaned back in her chair with a frown. "I'm getting tired of not being able to get straight answers. I suppose it helps that you are in the same boat as us instead of knowing but refusing to tell, but honestly, right now it's hard to see it as a very big improvement."

Jasmine's expression softened, and she put her hand on Hermione's arm. "Actually, that's a good point, Hermione. They **are** in the same boat. Whether this is good or bad, something's changed for them, and they didn't volunteer. It's not fair to take it out on them."

Hermione aimed her scowl at Jasmine for a moment, then exhaled heavily and slumped a bit in her seat. "I'm sorry, Fleur," she said as she turned back to the French witch. "Jasmine's right, I shouldn't be berating you when you didn't do anything and are as caught up in this as we are. I'm just... just so frustrated right now with people not telling us things and people doing things to us without our permission. I'm feeling really, really disenchanted with the magical world right now."

Fleur reached out her own hand to put it on one of Hermione's. "I understand, 'ermione, and I sympathize. Zis isn't easy for any of us. Zat is why we need to stick together. Whatever 'as 'appened to us, we need to face it together."

Jasmine moved her hand to cover Fleur's and said, "And we will."

Fleur was tempted to tell them that she expected to hear more from her family soon, but she knew that it would probably do more harm than good. They'd already experienced her family holding back information from them, and however worthy the cause, she knew that it wasn't fun to be on the receiving end of such treatment.

No, she'd just keep quiet about her family until she finally found out what was going on and what she was allowed to share. _Although_ , she realized, _given the way I feel right now, I'm not sure if I'd be_ _ **able**_ _to keep myself from telling them._

That was a disturbing realization to the young veela witch, and she had no idea what to do about it.

* * *

"Is Dobby seeing that?" Winky asked in awe and wonder.

"Dobby be seeing, but Dobby not be believing," he answered.

Winky shook her head, "That not supposed to be happening. They's can't all be bonded!"

"They's not all being bonded the same," Dobby pointed out. "The bond with Frenchie witch is not being the same as bond between our mistresses."

"You's being sure?" Winky asked, giving him a skeptical look.

Dobby nodded vigorously. "Yes, Dobby being sure! They's all bonded, but not all bonded the same. Frenchie witch being different — not same as witchy witches, not same as us."

Winky looked concerned for a moment before asking, "Is this being because of the food we be putting out for them all the time?"

Dobby shrugged and said, "Dobby not be knowing."

"Maybe..." Winky said hesitantly, "maybe we being _too_ creative?"

Dobby looked at Winky as if she had just grown a second head. "That being silly talk!" And he popped away.

Winky huffed and scowled at the spot that Dobby used to occupy. _We is going to have to talk_ , she thought before she, too, popped away.

* * *

One ginger twin watched as his brother cast yet another listening charm at the closed and sealed door. "Anything yet, brother of mine?" he asked.

"Nothing," the second twin said as he dropped his arms to his sides in resignation. "Not a single spell we've tried has been able to get through."

"Pretty impressive protective spellwork for a couple of fourth-years," the first observed, his admiration clear in his voice.

"It might have been the veela chick," the other pointed out, not happy at the prospect of having been outwitted by two fourth-year witches, even if they were the Girl Who Lived and the Brightest Witch of Her Age.

"Maybe," conceded the first twin, "but our two little lionesses have been doing a lot of training this past year. And you know Hermione devours knowledge the way Ron devours dinner."

"Too true," the second twin said, nodding his head in agreement. "We really shouldn't underestimate either of them."

"Maybe we should go back and review those introductory curse breaking books that our eldest brother sent us?"

"Capital idea! A change in approach is definitely called for here," the second twin said. "We'll get this problem licked yet!"

* * *

 **Sunday, February 28, 1995, Afternoon.**

The first thing Minerva McGonagall did when she let Hermione and Jasmine into her office for that Sunday's tea was to apologize to them. "I know I said it before, but I wanted to say it again here in a more private setting. I'm so, so sorry about what the Headmaster did to you, Hermione, and what that put you through, Jasmine. It was far too late by the time I found anything out, and he acted contrary to the advice I gave him."

"That's alright, Professor," Hermione said as she sat down, "we don't blame you."

"Yeah," Jasmine added, "we place most of the blame with Dumbledore. He's the one we're both really angry with. As suspicious of him as we were before, we hardly have **any** trust for him now."

"And we also blame the rest of the tournament organizers for coming up with such an awful task in the first place," Hermione added.

"Thank you," Minerva said, "but I still feel bad about it. I wish I could say that I was surprised at what he did, but I wasn't. Even when I first raised the issue of getting permission from parents and guardians, I had doubts that he would do the right thing. I did want to give him the chance, though."

"That's what makes me the most upset," Hermione said. "I went to the trouble of asking my parents, and he not only ignored that, he didn't even bother to ask **me**. It's like my opinion doesn't count at all, as far as he's concerned. Like... like I'm some sort of tool for him to use for his own purposes, and to hell with whatever I want."

Jasmine reached out and put a hand on her girlfriend's arm in an attempt to calm her down. Ever since the end of the second task, Hermione's emotions had been even more volatile than her own. _Is this some side effect of whatever happened between us and Fleur and her sister_ , Jasmine wondered, _or is Hermione finally as fed up with authority figures as I am?_

"I wish I could dispute that conclusion," Minerva said, "but right now I cannot, because it certainly looks that way. What do you plan on telling your parents?"

"Nothing if I can help it," Hermione said regretfully, shaking her head. "If they knew about even half of the dangerous stuff I get involved in here, I'm afraid they'd withdraw me from Hogwarts entirely."

"Neville wrote to his gran asking if she had any advice," Jasmine said. "Her response arrived this morning. Unfortunately, she said that there was nothing that could be done. Hermione here apparently doesn't matter enough legally, politically, or financially."

"That, too, is something I wish I could dispute," Minerva said with a sigh.

"Can you tell us more about the state of the magical government?" Jasmine asked while her girlfriend practically quivered in rage in the chair next to her. "We already understand the basic structure: the Minister is elected and appoints people to head departments in the Ministry, while the Wizengamot is an unelected body of representatives — mostly wizards — of old, wealthy families. But what's it like on a practical level?"

Minerva considered while she sipped her tea, trying to decide how best to answer that before finally saying, "Well, there isn't much good that can be said, I'm afraid. The Minister, Cornelius Fudge, is not an evil man, but he's also not especially admirable, either. As best as I can tell, he only cares about money, power, and popularity. He'll do anything to look good to the voters and to stay in the good graces of those who give him money — with Lucius Malfoy being the most prominent."

"Yeah," Jasmine said darkly, "Malfoy was with Fudge when the Minister came to arrest Hagrid in our second year. And I remember him saying that he needed to be seen doing something — not that there was evidence against Hagrid, and he certainly didn't get a trial. He was simply arrested and chucked into Azkaban so Fudge could look good."

"And perhaps because it served the interests of Mr. Malfoy," Minerva added. "The people he appoints are often similar to him, though not all. Amelia Bones, head of the DMLE, is one of the most honest and trustworthy people in the Ministry. She was a Hufflepuff and one of the best students of her year. Arthur Weasley is another good person, as you two well know. Sadly, they are more the exceptions than the rule in our Ministry."

"Is the Wizengamot the same?" Hermione asked, her thirst for knowledge finally winning out over her desire to throttle someone.

"If anything, it's probably worse," Minerva responded. "As bad as Cornelius is, he is at least answerable to the voters occasionally. He can be persuaded to take certain actions by pointing out how those actions will affect his popularity. The Wizengamot, in contrast, doesn't care at all about what's popular or not. They make the laws and sit in judgment in trials without much regard for the citizenry. Just so long as they maintain the Statute of Secrecy and don't oppress people too much, they know they will stay in power. "

"Have there ever been any attempts to reform the Wizengamot?" Hermione asked, aghast at what she was hearing. She knew they were unelected, but she had assumed that they were more benign than that.

"At various times people have called for reform and change," Minerva answered, "but those calls have never gone anywhere."

Soon thereafter the two young witches left, feeling more pessimistic than ever about Britain's magical government.

* * *

Neville and Ginny were enjoying themselves in a pool created by the Room of Requirement, and the highlight of their afternoon was using fifteen minutes of leftover gillyweed from the second task. Jasmine had said that their help had been invaluable and since she had extra, it was only right that the two of them be able to enjoy it. It was the first time either of them had ever had a chance to use the slimy plant, and both had reactions similar to Jasmine when she first tried it.

"How do you feel about training with Jasmine and Hermione?" Ginny asked, raising a question that had been bothering her for several days.

Neville sighed as he leaned back against the side of the pool and laid his head back on the edge. "I'm really conflicted. I think I'll learn a lot by practicing with them, but I think they are already so far ahead of me that I'll just end up holding them back, no matter what they say."

"I was actually talking about the darker or greyer spells they are learning," Ginny said. "Are you okay with that?"

Neville pursed his lips. "I'm not comfortable with learning them myself just yet, but I understand why they feel they need to. You know some of the things they've had to deal with."

Ginny nodded and sighed softly. "I guess you're right. It's just that my mother is always banging on about dark spells and using magic for evil purposes. Learning spells that only exist to hurt people... it just feels wrong."

"It's not nice," Neville agreed, "but some people need to be hurt in order to stop them. And some people... some people **deserve** to be hurt." Neville's face darkened when he said this, and it was clear that he had someone in particular in mind. "It really comes down to when you use those spells and with whom, doesn't it?"

"I guess so," Ginny responded. After a few minutes, she tried changing the subject by asking, "Why do you suppose Hermione and Jasmine didn't want to use the gillyweed with us?"

"I'm pretty sure they wanted to try out their own leftover gillyweed with just the two of them present," Neville answered with a shrug.

Ginny didn't understand what he meant at first, but when she figured it out she started blushing and shuddered slightly at the thought. Neville didn't notice her reaction and continued, "It was really generous of them to share with us like that. I doubt that I'd have ever spent the money necessary to try it myself."

"Really?" Ginny asked. "Wait... how much does that stuff cost, anyway?"

"Oh, the fifteen-minute size that we used would probably cost around 50 galleons," Neville answered, "especially if you got it fresh from a reputable grower like she did."

"What?" Ginny almost shouted, incredulous that such a small sample of such a nasty plant could cost so much. "That's... that's... four or five new wands from Ollivander's! That's new clothes and books for me for Hogwarts for several years!"

She couldn't believe that Jasmine would give her something so valuable, and all out of friendship. Now she felt even worse than she had before about her negative reaction to their relationship. It seemed that no matter how hard she tried, she still couldn't manage to be as good of a friend to them as they were to her.

Ginny bit her lip — it was just too much. "I'm sorry, I can't do this," she mumbled as she practically leapt out of the pool. Neville could only watch in bewilderment as she quickly grabbed her Hogwarts robe and ran out of the Room of Requirement — he didn't even have time to call her name before she was gone.

 _What in Merlin's name was that all about?_ Neville wondered. _Did I say something wrong?_ Looking around, he realized that spending time in the pool alone wouldn't be nearly as much fun as it had been with Ginny, so he decided to try to track her down and find out what was going on.

* * *

 **Sunday, February 28, 1995, Evening.**

"Wormtail!" came the call from the other room. Slowly getting up from his half-eaten dinner, Peter Pettigrew made his way to the bassinet where the Baby Mort thing spent all of its time.

"Yes, Master?" he asked.

"Wormtail, it looks like there will have to be a change in plans. We command you to seek out Lucius Malfoy and bring him here before Us. He will help Us devise a new plan to snatch the Potter girl early so we can perform the ritual as soon as possible."

"Yes, Master," Peter responded, but before he could retreat from the room, the thing in the bassinet spoke again.

"Not yet! First you must milk Nagini and create enough of the potion to last Us for a couple of days! Only once you have completed that can you leave!"

"Yes, Master," Peter replied, leaving the room so he could find Nagini, who was probably outside hunting now. Peter wasn't sure if this was a good development or a bad one. If the plan had to be changed that radically, then that wasn't a good sign; but if he could stop being forced to care for that tiny homunculus that much sooner, then so much the better. The presence of another Death Eater meant that he wouldn't get all of the credit for helping his Master, which was disappointing; but it also meant another target for his Master's torture curses, a burden he was only too happy to share.

All of this thinking made Peter's brain hurt.

* * *

Draco Malfoy was sitting in his bed down in the Slytherin fourth-year dorms making plans. For too long, Jasmine Potter had been allowed to strut around Hogwarts like she owned the place, looking down on others as though they were beneath her, breaking all the rules, spitting on magical heritage, and ignoring wizarding traditions. She was a half-blood. She had been raised by muggles. Her mother was a mudblood. She was a witch. On every count, she was inferior and unworthy of leadership or respect, yet she had the staff and the rest of the student body practically eating out of her hand.

Well, that was going to change. Today he had been walking out by the greenhouses with his min... er... allies, Crabbe and Goyle, when they were suddenly confronted by none other than Rita Skeeter. The famous reporter wanted to talk to him, of all people — not his father, but him! She wanted inside information about the school, the students, the tournament, the champions — anything, really. Apparently the success she had achieved with her recent article had left her hungry for more.

Draco knew exactly how he was going to use this opportunity... well, maybe not _exactly_. He knew what he wanted to do, he just hadn't figured out the details yet. He was going to use this to ruin Jasmine Potter and her friends, especially her pet mudblood Granger. He was going to cultivate Skeeter as a contact and possible ally — it was always good to have friends in the press. He was going to show his parents that he was cunning enough to create and execute plans like this. He was going to show the rest of Slytherin how a real leader operated.

 _I'm going to show them all_ , Draco thought, _and they'll all be sorry that they didn't acknowledge my greatness sooner!_

How, though… that was the million galleon question. Obviously he needed to feed Skeeter a story that would at least start to achieve some of those goals.

What kind of story, though? And about whom? _This will require the utmost in cunning and intelligence_ , he concluded. _Good thing I'm up to the job..._

* * *

 **Sunday, February 28, 1995, Night.**

As it turned out, it took three days for Walburga to talk to all of the portraits in the house, including the one of Phineas. It was a tedious and annoying task trying to get them all to understand what was needed from them and how important their jobs would be, but they heeded her advice and were getting prepared.

Of course, the reason why she found it all so tedious and annoying was probably because she wasn't really a portrait herself. At least, not entirely.

She had started out as a magical portrait, to be sure, and like all magical portraits she was supposed to have the memories and personality of the original subject. But that was all — no real creativity, intuition, emotion, or any of the other hallmarks of sentient life. They could learn new facts, but not make new discoveries; they could accept changed circumstances, but not actually change themselves. Magical portraits mimicked life, but were not alive.

Walburga Black had wanted her portrait to be different. In one of the family's darkest books, she located a ritual that she thought would not only create the perfect magical portrait, but would also ensure her a long, long life: she was going to turn her portrait into a horcrux.

Unfortunately for Walburga Black, being a devotee of the Dark Arts didn't mean that she was necessarily skilled at them. The portrait didn't know what went wrong, exactly, whether it was an error in the long, involved ritual needed to prepare the intended vessel, or perhaps some conflict between the magic already imbued in the portrait and the dark power needed to sustain a horcrux. Unfortunately, the magic behind these portraits wasn't something she had ever bothered studying, even after choosing to use one for such a difficult ritual. That had probably been a mistake.

Whatever the reason, something caused the final spell to backfire, killing not only the muggle sacrifice Walburga had kidnapped, but also Walburga herself. When the portrait woke up several days later, she found to her eternal dismay that the better part of Walburga Black's soul had been completely stripped from her body and permanently embedded in the portrait.

Moreover, the "better part" didn't just mean most of her soul, but also the best and most moral parts — well, less evil parts, at any rate. The portrait retained all of the knowledge, cunning, and insight, as well as most of the beliefs and personality of the original Walburga Black; however, the careless disregard for the harm caused by those beliefs was mostly eliminated. She still didn't approve of mudbloods and blood traitors, but she also didn't particularly want them dead, for some strange reason. She suspected that it was a function of having one of the worst Dark Arts rituals backfire on her — a price exacted by Magic itself, perhaps. She couldn't be sure, though. And whom could she ask?

So here she was, trapped in a portrait and treated like a portrait. For all intents and purposes, though, she was still Walburga Black — it was why Kreacher still obeyed her orders so devoutly. At least, she was pretty sure she was still Walburga Black. There were times that she felt incomplete, as if there were something missing, but she couldn't put her finger on what it was or what it might mean.

When Sirius had finally arrived after all these years alone, only to ignore her completely — well, it was more than she could bear. She also suspected that she might have been starting to go a bit mad, because round-the-clock screaming had seemed an entirely sensible reaction at the time. Once he had provided her with a purpose, however, she latched onto it with a passion. She had told the truth about Dorea, and that she wanted to help Miss Potter because of the connection to her beloved aunt; but Walburga wasn't prepared to explain to Sirius why she needed more than just the vacuous, aimless existence of a portrait. He hated the original Walburga, and with good reason. He hated the Dark Arts, too, so she'd be doubly despised.

But that didn't mean that she wouldn't assist him. She would do whatever she could — for Jasmine Dorea, if for no other reason, but a part of her felt that she owed Sirius something for all the grief and misery that the original Walburga had put him through. She didn't understand it because, like the original Walburga, she, too, disliked his blood-traitor tendencies. She found it all very confusing; but regardless of why she felt as though she owed him, she was going to act on it because without him, she'd still be alone and falling into insanity.

And that was why she needed to do something about his drinking. _He might think that the alcohol helps_ , she lamented, _but it's only making things worse. In the long run, it will make him unfit to act as Jasmine Dorea's guardian. Our enemies will use it against him, and she will end up resenting him. He's going to have to make some significant changes to how he lives._

"Kreacher!" she called out.

"Yes, Mistress?" the old house elf said when he popped in front of her.

"Where is Sirius?" she asked.

"Passed out in his bed from firewhiskey, Mistress," Kreacher spat with a disgusted look on his face.

"Why am I not surprised?" she asked, rolling her eyes. "Fine — hide all the alcohol in the house. We'll let him sleep this one off because I'll need him coherent for our next conversation. Make sure that hangover and headache potions are ready."

"Yes, Mistress," he said before popping away to carry out his duties.

Walburga sighed. To help Dorea's namesake, she was going to have to rebuild the Black family power and prestige, yet that was starting to look like an impossible task. Sirius had always been such a disappointment as a son, but right now he was the only son she had left. Indeed, he was the only Black left. What was the magical world coming to when Sirius Orion Black became the last, best hope for the Black family?

Well, there was Andromeda, but she had been disowned. She could be brought back into the family, but Walburga wasn't sure how reliable she would be. She had a daughter, but that witch was a complete unknown. There was Bellatrix, but she was in Azkaban and apparently insane. There was also Narcissa, who had married well and become a Malfoy; but that tied her to the Dark Lord, and Walburga wasn't sure that he was such a good bet anymore.

 _So that just leaves Sirius_ , she concluded reluctantly. _Except..._ A small smile crept onto her face as she came to an intriguing realization. The Black family may have always favored pureblood supremacy, but they didn't do so at the expense of the family's survival. And Sirius wasn't necessarily the last, best hope for the Black family after all. It might require a bit of maneuvering to fit within the inheritance rules, but if it could be worked out, then... _There is another._


	42. Monday, Monday

**A/N:** This is easily one of the most important chapters in the entire story. For some characters, Monday will be pretty average; for others, it will forever alter the course of their lives. So many little things have been leading up to this... and yet, some of the biggest surprises are yet to come!

 **Recommendation** : This chapter's recommended fic is "Just Another Day in Ward 37" by apAiden. Harry tries to use a modified polyjuice potion for an undercover auror mission and things don't go quite as planned. Hermione is not amused... at first. Short and funny.

* * *

 **Chapter 42 - Monday, Monday**

 **Monday, March 1, 1995, Early Morning.**

Ron Weasley wasn't usually a morning person. He'd much rather have a relaxing lie-in until 10 or 11, then have a large breakfast, just like his mother always made at home, followed immediately by an equally large lunch. Ron especially disliked Monday mornings: it was hard enough to get up to get to class, but to expect him to do it after having spent an entire weekend reading about Quidditch, watching Quidditch, and playing chess... that was just criminal.

Ron made an exception for this particular morning, though, because this Monday morning was special. It was his birthday! Today, Ron Weasley reached the age of fifteen years - just two more years until he became an adult in the wizarding world.

At home his mother would normally fix him an especially large birthday breakfast with all of his favorite dishes - well, more helpings of his favorite dishes, at least - but he could make do with what they served at Hogwarts, especially since he also had presents and a birthday cake to look forward to.

For a moment, that brought Ron up short. Not all that long ago, it wouldn't have been true that he'd have presents or a birthday cake to look forward to, and while he'd still be able to have a good breakfast, it wouldn't be different from any other day. He'd also likely have to eat it alone. That would have been his own fault, too, because he had acted like a git and turned his back on his best friends.

It was only in the past few days that he had really been able to make significant progress in healing the rifts he'd created. It had taken Jasmine almost getting flambeed by a dragon before he was willing to admit that he'd been wrong about thinking she'd cheated to get into the Triwizard Tournament. It had taken Hermione being kidnapped and held at the bottom of the Black Lake before he'd managed to step up and actively support Jasmine so she could go rescue their mutual friend.

Their relationships weren't back to what they were before and possibly never would be, but if that were true he knew he'd only have himself to blame. He wouldn't dwell on that, though. Instead, he'd focus on continuing to repair those relationships because during the past couple of months he'd begun to realize just how important they were. Indeed, they were more important than birthday presents and birthday cake, and he was going to make sure that the relevant people knew it.

It was going to be a good day to be Ron Weasley - he was sure of it.

* * *

Albus Dumbledore loved mornings, especially early mornings when others weren't awake. It was more relaxing, he could get more work done, and it simply felt like a good time to be alive. The key ingredient, though, was others not being awake: it was the solitude of early mornings that attracted him, and when that solitude was disturbed as it had been a few moments ago, he learned what it meant to hate mornings.

"Albus! Albus!" came the nasally voice from his fireplace - a voice he knew and disliked at any time of the day, never mind early mornings when he preferred to enjoy the peace and quiet. Unfortunately, he couldn't afford to express his true feelings.

"Good morning, Cornelius," he responded in faux cheerfulness that he knew the Minister would never see through - not because Dumbledore was a good actor, though he was, but simply because the man was too dense to ever detect when a person was lying, no matter how badly. "What brings you to my fireplace at this wonderful and early hour?" _At least, it_ _ **was**_ _a wonderful hour_ , he thought.

"It's horrible, Albus! I've never seen anything like this!" the Minister of Magic whinged, apparently expecting the Headmaster of Hogwarts to console him in his time of need. "I need to come through to talk to you about this."

"I'm not really prepared to receive visitors at this early hour, Cornelius," Dumbledore responded, desperately hoping that he could convince the man that he didn't need to come speak to him in person. _It couldn't possibly be bad enough to warrant a face-to-face meeting, could it?_

"Oh, very well, Albus, but it's all your fault anyway," the Minister declared, his face shifting from worry to anger. "I'm not going to take the fall for you, mark my words. This will be resting on your shoulders, I guarantee it!"

"Whatever could be the problem, Cornelius?" Dumbledore asked, starting to worry a little now, but not too much because he knew the man's penchant for panicking at the drop of his green bowler hat.

"I've got here international complaints, some personal and some official," the Minister said, starting to get angrier. "They are all about you and that blasted tournament you're running. Did you or did you not have the daughter of an important French magical family placed at the bottom of an ice-cold lake in the middle of bloody February? Did you or did you not cast a faulty spell on her that might have caused her to drown if it hadn't been for the heroic actions of the Girl Who Lived?"

Now Dumbledore started to genuinely worry. He had expected the complaints, but he had hoped that they would come directly to him so he could deal with them quietly. Now, though, they were out in the wild, and the most he could do was damage control. "It's not nearly as bad as you seem to think it is, Cornelius," he said in an effort to calm the man. "You know how overly dramatic the French can get. They are overreacting, that's all. Besides, I wasn't even responsible for picking the person who was used in the tournament, I merely administered their placement."

"That's not what I heard, Dumbledore," Cornelius said, indicating by the shift in names that he was prepared to be more belligerent than usual. "We've got an international incident brewing here, and it has your name all over it. If we don't find some way to placate the French, then they and their allies will start making trouble for us - trouble that we can ill afford!"

Dumbledore sighed, not really wanting to be distracted by this sort of thing right now.

"What if I give the Girl Who Lived an award for rescuing that frog bint? Will that make the French happy, do you think?" The Minister asked hopefully.

"No, Cornelius," Dumbledore said quickly, "that's not a good idea. Young Miss Potter doesn't like the attention and would probably react negatively to it all, thus making matters worse." After a brief hesitation, he added for good measure, "She really isn't mature enough for that sort of thing right now."

"Oh, very well," the Minister said reluctantly. "But I'm going to need something else!"

"Maybe if I came in later—" Dumbledore started to say before he was interrupted.

"Yes, yes! Excellent idea," the Minister said. "I'll see you in an hour!"

"I really don't think I can..." Dumbledore objected, but stopped when he realized he was only talking to an empty fireplace. Sighing, he stood up from his half-eaten breakfast and made his way to his private chambers so he could find an appropriate set of robes.

It was not going to be a good day to be Albus Dumbledore, he just knew it.

* * *

Sirius Black didn't have much of an opinion about mornings one way or the other. In Azkaban, night and day were practically interchangeable, so he slept when he was tired and was awake when the screaming - sometimes his own - kept him awake. Sometimes the screaming woke him up, too... like this morning. Except that it wasn't screaming from exposure to Dementors or even nightmares; instead, it was screaming from having several gallons of ice water dumped on him.

" **Gah!** " he cried out, sputtering and shaking his head trying to get rid of the ice chips. Looking around, he spotted Kreacher with an especially evil grin on his face. "You! Kreacher, you did this, didn't you?"

"Yes, filthy blood traitor, Kreacher did it."

Shocked that the vile little house elf had actually admitted to the deed, Sirius was simply speechless. Finally, he asked, "Well, why did you do it, then? What's gotten into you?" Kreacher never did and never would like him, Sirius knew that; but over the past few days his improved relationship with his mother's portrait seemed to have carried over to the house elf.

"Mistress commanded it," Kreacher explained, as if it had been a completely natural and expected order.

"What? Why?" Sirius demanded, even more confused now.

"Mistress commanded that the filthy drunken no-good blood traitor son be woken up with ice water," Kreacher explained slowly, as if to an especially dense toddler. "Mistress commands that blood traitor son shower, shave, dress properly, and eat before appearing before her. Mistress has plans and plots, but needs no-good son to help."

Shaking his head again, Sirius said, "I see her every day. What's special about today?"

"Mistress says today is the day that no-good blood traitor son learns to shape up and act like a proper son of the House of Black, not that Kreacher believes it. No, bad master won't learn, Kreacher is sure, but Mistress commanded, so Kreacher obeys. Mistress says that no-good son must stop drinking and start acting right so he can help halfblood granddaughter of the Noble and Ancient House of Black."

Sirius was a bit confused by all of this, so he focused on the one thing that he understood and which was truly important. "Stop drinking?"

Sirius wouldn't have believed that Kreacher's smile could get even nastier, but it did. "Yes, Mistress commands that Kreacher hide all the alcohol, but Kreacher suggested that it all be dumped down the sink, and Mistress agreed. Mistress appreciates advice from poor old Kreacher, yes she does."

"Dumped? Sink?" Sirius sputtered, having trouble believing his ears. "You dumped all the firewhiskey? There's no more rum?"

When Kreacher nodded, grinning broadly enough to show his yellow, misshapen teeth, Sirius leapt out of bed and threw himself at the horrid little house elf, but Kreacher simply snapped his fingers and popped away, causing Sirius to hit the wall headfirst. Sitting there in a bit of a daze and still sopping wet, he contemplated just how bizarre the morning had been and worried that things would only go downhill from there. _I can't believe there's no more rum!_

It was going to be a very weird day for Sirius Black, he was sure of it.

* * *

Fleur Delacour wasn't particularly fond of mornings, but that was mostly when she was away from home because she detested waking up alone. Coming to consciousness in an otherwise empty, cold bed always depressed her - she much preferred to awaken in one of the massive beds at home while snuggled up with family or friends. Waking up that way meant knowing how much you were loved and wanted; waking up alone meant feeling uncertain about one's place in the world.

Once Gabrielle had joined her in Scotland, she no longer had to sleep alone; but ever since the second task neither had been able to sleep very well, and Gabrielle had taken to getting up early and leaving Fleur by herself. As had been the case for most of the past several months, Fleur woke up that morning alone in bed; unlike the past few months, though, she was **not** alone in her room.

She shot from half asleep to fully conscious in an instant as she sat up in bed and looked around, seeing a half dozen women in her room, all veela. She recognized her maman and grandmere, but she didn't recognize the other four. Two were wearing very expensive cloaks, and she guessed that they were important people.

What really threw her were the two standing by the door. They wore rather plain cloaks, but the bulkiness of their figures suggested that they were wearing far more underneath. She didn't need to see the short spears or bronze swords they were carrying to guess that those two witches were wearing armor, which meant that they weren't just any veela and weren't even just any bodyguards.

 _Could they really be Amazzi?_ she wondered. Those legendary veela warriors who served as the primary defense against outsiders were only rarely seen beyond the borders of veela enclaves - except for rumored assassination missions, but even then the only people who might see them wouldn't survive the experience. Few non-veela even knew about their existence anymore, and no one seemed to know exactly how many of them there were. At one time knowledge of them had been more common, but over the millennia their existence had passed into myth, and they were now known as "Amazons" among the muggles, who had no idea what they were talking about.

To see not one but two Amazzi in her bedroom did not bode well. _They couldn't be here for me or my family_ , she thought, _so they must be protecting the two strangers. For those strangers to warrant the personal protective services of two Amazzi means that they must be far, far more important than I first thought._

"Daughter," Apolline said, forcing her to focus. "I told you we would come, and we are here. Great things are afoot - great and terrible things. It is time for you to learn that which you have asked about so often, but I do not believe you will thank me for telling you. Just know that I did not wish this on you, and if I could take your burden on myself, I would."

"You will have to be strong, young one," Sybine said, her voice a little thick. "Both you and your sister will have to be stronger than you ever thought possible. Your mother and I will do whatever we can to support and help you, but at the end of the day, you and your sister will have to rely on each other to make it through the trials that are before you."

"Get dressed and eat breakfast," said one of the two well-dressed strangers. "You have one hour, then we must talk." With that, all six left her room. For the first time ever, Fleur was wishing that she had truly woken alone.

It was going to be a difficult day for Fleur Delacour - she just knew it.

* * *

Jasmine Potter woke up feeling well-rested and refreshed. The last few days had been stressful, and she still felt that she hadn't entirely recovered from the second task, but last night had been good. She and Hermione had finished their wandless spellcasting and mind magic exercises early so they could just spend a bit of time snogging and talking. She wasn't sure which activity she liked best with Hermione, but she could appreciate both, and they helped distract her from her desire to march up to the Headmaster's office and start hexing him for what he had done to her girlfriend.

There had also been a bit of light petting, too, something that Jasmine was still working on getting used to. Well, to be more accurate, she was still working on not jumping out of her skin every time Hermione's hands started wandering. Once she got past that point and stopped thinking about it too hard, she could revel in the sensations, and that was definitely moving up on her list of favorite activities.

At this rate, it might just overtake flying her broom on her list, especially if she learned how to suppress her initial aversion anytime soon. She never could have imagined how much fun petting could be, and according to Hermione, it would only get better.

It looked like it would be a happy day for Jasmine, or at least that's what she hoped.

* * *

Tom Riddle slowly came to consciousness, uncertain of where he was or what had happened to him. Gradually he remembered the pain he had experienced the night before. It hadn't been as bad as some of the bouts of pain he'd had to endure in recent weeks, but it had been bad enough that he had passed out, something he didn't normally have to worry about.

And while the worst of the pain may have been gone now, he still felt pretty bad. He ached... somewhere. It felt like it was all over, but whenever he tried to focus on the aching, he couldn't determine where exactly it was. He had no idea that the pain he had been experiencing had been in his very soul, and therefore so was the aching. It was everywhere, yet nowhere physical, thus defying his attempts to locate or understand.

 _We are pleased that We decided to send out Wormtail to fetch another one of Our servants_ , he thought. _Lucius is a skilled wizard who will be able to help Us, just so long as We can temper his ambition and prevent him from thinking Us too weak to be worth obeying anymore. It is good that We thought to include so many loyalty and obedience charms in Our Mark._

No longer thinking about the deep ache he experienced all over, Riddle focused on plots and plots within plots as he addressed the problem of how to keep Lucius Malfoy from taking advantage of him while they worked to ensure the kidnapping of the Potter brat. Everything always came back to Potter and what she had done to him. Well, he'd make her pay.

In the meantime, though, he needed to take his potion. He'd had the foresight to tell Wormtail to make extra and leave it for him, but he hadn't given much thought to how he'd drink it with the stubby little baby arms he had to work with.

It was going to be an annoying day, Lord Voldemort was sure of it. But he'd just _Crucio_ Wormtail and Lucius a bit extra for it.

* * *

 **Monday, March 1, 1995, Late Morning.**

Sirius stood before the portrait of his mother, showered, shaved, and sober. He was having flashbacks to his childhood and was pretty sure that it wasn't due to alcohol withdrawal - not yet, at any rate. She looked him up and down, apparently not entirely happy with what she was seeing, but resigned to having no other choice.

"Sirius," she said, "I've been both proud of you and disappointed in you these past few days." He was sure the shock must have been obvious on his face. "I've been proud because I can see how hard you are trying to do the right thing for young Jasmine Dorea. I get the distinct impression that she has no other adults in her life - not even in the muggle world - who will put her interests first."

Sirius nodded at that, having come to the same conclusion. "At the same time, though," she continued, "I've been disappointed in how you've been handling this new responsibility that you've taken on yourself. Your drinking, for example, has gotten to be excessive. Too often I've seen you unfocused and wandering around the house. This is a problem - a problem of your own making, no less. A Black should not wallow in self-pity like that."

"I won't deny it," Sirius responded, his temper starting to rise, "but you have no idea what Azkaban was like. What it did to me. I spent more than a decade in that hellhole, and there are times when I'm not sure if I ever left. At night, I can still feel the Dementors. I can still hear the screaming... Merlin, sometimes I can still hear my own screaming. The firewhiskey helps - it pushes back the memories. Most of the time, it's the only way I can sleep."

Sirius collapsed against the wall after letting all of that out. He thought he saw a flash of sympathy in the portrait's face, but it was quickly replaced by her usual stern, disapproving expression. "I'm not surprised, Sirius, and perhaps I shouldn't blame you. However, the fact remains that you need to get your act together if you are going to be able to help your goddaughter. She's what matters here, not your self-pity. Fortunately, I am now in a position to help you more than I could previously."

At his disbelieving look, she continued, "In the first place, we have a couple of Blacks who were healers in the past, and they have portraits both here and at St. Mungo's. One was even a mind healer back in her day. They will work with you while getting advice from current mind healers - anonymously, of course. You must commit to talking to them at least a couple of hours each day as well as any time the memories get to you. You must also stop drinking, at least for a while."

Sirius shook his head and said, "I don't see how a mind healer could possibly help me. What do they know about Azkaban? What do they know about the long-term effects of Dementors? What do they know about what I've been through?"

Walburga's eyes flashed as she shouted, "It doesn't matter! What matters is that you must try! I said this wasn't about you, and it's time you remembered that! You have a duty to your goddaughter and you know that your drinking will only make things worse in the long run. **You. Will. Try!** "

Sirius couldn't remember the last time he had been ashamed of his actions in front of his mother - his mother, of all people! - but right now he was. He hung his head and silently nodded, unconsciously imitating behavior he hadn't engaged in since long before he'd started attending Hogwarts.

He had wanted help and knew that he needed help, but he didn't think there was anywhere he could go for it. Nor did he know how to ask for it. Now, maybe he would get it - and in the house of his ancestors, the last place he ever would have expected to find it.

"Second," Walburga went on, "I have spoken with the portrait of Phineas Nigellus. He understands our situation and has informed me that his oath as a Black does indeed supercede his oath as a headmaster of Hogwarts. Apparently, he had that oath adjusted just to ensure that it was subordinate. He was a true Slytherin!" She shook her head in admiration. "This means that he will spy on the Headmaster for us rather than the other way around. If indeed Dumbledore is behind all of the ills that have befallen Jasmine Dorea, then we now have eyes and ears deep within the enemy camp. It's not a victory, but it is a very important step towards eventual victory."

Sirius exhaled in obvious relief. He had hoped at best that Phineas wouldn't give them away, but this news was better than he could have possibly expected.

"Third, and in a similar vein," Walburga continued, "All of the other portraits have agreed to provide whatever help they can. Some will be able to provide advice or instruction. Others will use their other frames in the Ministry, St. Mungo's, and other houses to watch for information that might be relevant to our cause. Every Black, whether through birth or marriage, has been marshalled to our flag and is committed to restoring our House."

Sirius nodded, not really thinking about the possible implications of that because he was simply too happy to have more help - even if it was in the form of musty old portraits of long-dead bigots that he wouldn't normally spit on. Under other circumstances he might have laughed at such "help," but he was far too desperate to turn it away now.

"Thank you... Mother," he barely managed to choke out that last word. He hadn't spoken it as anything other than a curse in decades. He was pretty sure that James was laughing at him right now.

* * *

Just as Fleur was finishing breakfast, another veela she didn't recognize approached her and said that she was her escort to the secure conference room. Fleur didn't waste any time and quickly followed the unknown witch. She spent most of the short walk through the expanded carriage's corridors patting her clothing in an effort to make herself look more presentable.

When they arrived at a door she hadn't seen before, she was sent straight in while the other witch remained outside. Just inside the door were the two Amazzi, both now without their robes and thus revealing the brilliant, golden armor, bronze sword, and spear they all carried. These veela were taller than Fleur, and they would have been broader and heavier than her even without their armor. They had the ethereal beauty that all veela possessed, but they also had the quiet, understated menace of professional warriors which Fleur found quite intimidating. The fact that she could feel them watching her every move didn't help.

Seated in one couch were the two strangers from earlier, and in another were Apolline and Sybine. Fleur immediately took the spot that had been left between her elders and reveled in the contact as her mother and grandmother scooted close and held her. She didn't know what she was about to face, but she knew that it wasn't good, and she was happy for any comfort she could get right now.

"Young one," started one of the strangers in French. "My name is Adrienne, and my companion here is Margaux. We are both from the Theledrion, and we have come here to talk to you." Fleur's eyes widened in shock at this - no one ever got a personal visit from anyone on the veela high council. Few enough ever got to see them at all, and those that did were summoned to appear before them.

"The Theledrion has been kept abreast of what's been happening here with you," Margaux said. "You probably don't know it, but Apolline and Sybine both work closely with us." Fleur shot surprised looks at the women beside her, and Margaux nodded. "I'm afraid I can't tell you what exactly they do for us, but suffice it to say that they are in our confidence. So as soon as they read your first letter and realized its implications, they came to us seeking advice."

"It was on our advice that you were urged to get closer to those two English witches," Adrienne continued, "and it was at our insistence that you have been kept largely in the dark. I apologize for that, but it was necessary. There have been too many variables and too much uncertainty, so we thought it best if you proceeded in your relationship with them as naturally as possible. We weren't even sure about letting you know about their special bond, but you were able to figure that out on your own." The last was said with a smile, indicating that she didn't hold Fleur's perceptiveness against her.

"I take it that you're here to tell me more - to tell me some of the things that you've been keeping from me?" Fleur asked.

"Indeed, young one," Adrienne said. "But first, we'd like to know if you have anything else you can tell us about what's going on."

"Beyond the apparent bonding that I and my sister experienced with them, you mean?" Fleur asked. When they nodded, she said, "There are two things that I don't think I mentioned in my last letter because I was so worried about the bonding. One is that Hermione seems to take the lead when it comes to what they learn. The second is that when we champions were all practicing for the second task, I noticed that Jasmine's spells were much more powerful than they should have been, even when cast silently. I think perhaps both she and Hermione are far more powerful magically than they are letting on."

The older veela all gave each other significant looks, as if they were expecting to hear something like this. "We are about to tell you things that few in the world have ever known," Adrienne continued. "Information that could have terrible consequences if it got into the wrong hands - the hands of meddlers and schemers. So you must first make an oath before we can proceed."

Everything she had heard so far made Fleur more and more worried, but her maman and grandmere were there with her, and that gave her the courage to press forward. Once she swore on her life and magic not to reveal what they were about to tell her without their prior permission, Margaux said, "If I'm not mistaken, you were informed that your sister gave a real prophecy on the occasion of Imbolc?"

"Yes, I was," Fleur replied.

"You may not remember the whole thing, but we have it written down," Margaux said and handed her a piece of parchment with Gabrielle's prophecy written on it.

The time of the Great Prophecy approaches.

The maidens have arrived.  
Their magic must unite.  
Their power must emerge.  
Their love must flourish.  
The Feminine must ascend.  
The Great Prophecy must come to pass.

"As you can see, this references the 'Great Prophecy,' and I believe you were informed about how the veela Prophet Cassandra Predire delivered what we know as the Great Prophecy, the most important of all the prophecies she ever gave, yes?"

"Yes," Fleur responded.

"Well, it's time for you to learn what **that** prophecy says," Adrienne informed her as she handed over a second piece of parchment, this time with a longer prophecy written on it.

The ones with the power to restore the goddesses approach.  
Two maidens, alone and isolated, will rise out of Albion  
And bind to themselves two shieldmaidens tempered by fire and air.  
A Speaker of mixed blood who fights against the Dark,  
A Scholar of new blood who lights the Path ahead,  
Together bound in heart, mind, magic, and soul,  
They bear the key to power others know not.  
United, their power and love shall grow.  
With power comes strength,  
And the oppression shall be ended.  
With love comes creation,  
And the Eternal Feminine will flourish.  
Or all will be lost and the Feminine suppressed forever.  
The ones with the power to restore the goddesses approach.

"Oh la vache," Fleur whispered. "You think that this refers to Jasmine and Hermione? They are the ones with the responsibility to... to what? Reform magical society?"

"We are convinced of it," Margaux said. "It has to be two English witches, and those two fit the parameters established in the prophecy: a bound couple where one is a halfblood 'Speaker,' which we now think means a parselmouth, and one is a muggleborn scholar who 'lights the path,' so it is someone who is learned and teaches others. Our people have been watching and waiting for centuries for any who might meet these conditions, though always from a distance so as not to risk interfering. Those two witches are the first to appear, and your sister's prophecy states quite clearly that the maidens have now arrived."

"And... and what of these other two? The shieldmaidens?" Fleur asked, not sure she wanted to hear the answer.

"Who do you think?" Adrienne asked gently. "What two individuals do you know who are tempered by fire and air and who have been bound to the witches from Albion? Two individuals who have been 'chosen,' for lack of a better word, by those two witches?"

"Merde alors," Fleur whispered, this time barely audible. "It cannot be. It cannot... we cannot..." Fleur started shaking her head in denial while her mother and grandmother pulled her into a tighter embrace.

"I'm afraid it is," her grandmother said softly. "Even when we started to become certain that the Great Prophecy was about those two, we never imagined that you and Gabrielle would get caught up in this as anything more than as close observers. Now, though…."

"Now, you and your sister have a heavy responsibility," her mother picked up the thought. "It will not be easy, and it will not be safe. But for one reason or another, Fate or Magic has picked you and Gabrielle to become the shieldmaidens for the only two with the power to restore the goddesses to their rightful positions in magical society."

"We will not dare try to tell you what this means for you beyond the obvious," Margaux said. "You two are, according to the prophecy, to be their shieldmaidens. Their protectors and defenders for certain, but possibly also the tip of their spear in whatever battles they must fight. Anything more than that, we cannot say, because it's too easy to twist a prophecy into meaning whatever you want."

"You and your sister will have to figure out on your own, or better in conjunction with those two English witches, what your roles will ultimately be," Adrienne added. "We will not tell you what path you must follow - that is something you and your sister must determine for yourselves."

"To that end, you have our permission to tell them about the prophecy, but only at such a time _after_ they have figured out their own bond that you think is appropriate," Margaux said. "The exact timing is up to you, but those are the conditions we are setting for it."

"Are we on our own, then?" Fleur asked hesitantly. "Just me and my sister?"

"Of course not," Apolline said immediately. "Not only will you get whatever support you need from your family, but the veela nation itself will be doing what it can." She looked to the other two for support, and both nodded.

"In the final analysis, it will be up to the four of you to fulfill the prophecy, that is clear," Adrienne explained, "but that doesn't mean that you cannot receive help. You and your sister will both, for example, receive intensive training from the Amazzi. You're technically too young, but because of the unusual circumstances that condition is being waived. We will also be providing whatever other funds and training you four might need."

"We are talking about the fulfillment of the most important prophecy ever delivered in the history of our people," Margaux said. "It has significant implications not just for us, but for all magical communities around the world. We dare not try to force it to any particular conclusion, but there is nothing we won't do to support you in the hope that your actions will produce the most positive outcome possible."

Fleur could see that there was both hope and anxiety in the eyes of the council members.

"For now," Adrienne said, "We need you to study everything we have on bonds, witch/witch couples, and Cassandra Predire's prophecies, as well as material on the goddesses, feminine magic, and soul magic. I and your mother will stay here to tutor you and your sister. Our guards," she gestured to the two Amazzi by the door, "Areto and Phoebe, will remain to begin your instruction in physical fitness and combat."

"But... but... what about my classes?" Fleur asked.

"Alongside your instruction in these other areas," Margaux explained, "you will be learning the most important magical subjects: transfiguration, charms, defense, arithmancy, and runes. You will have to give up astronomy, herbology, and the rest. We need you focused on what is most important, and for that reason you'll remain in the carriage for a while until you are up to speed on everything."

"Gabrielle will be joining you for as much as she can, and she will be taught separately for the rest," Apolline said. "She isn't here with us now because we thought it would be too much to break to her all at once. We'll tell her separately and in stages to make it as easy for her as possible."

Fleur felt completely overwhelmed and it showed. Her mother and grandmother hugged her tight from either side, and while she was tempted to feel sorry for herself, she couldn't help but think of how all of this would affect Gabrielle.

* * *

 **Monday, March 1, 1995, Night.**

Albus Dumbledore stumbled out of the floo and into his office, tired and annoyed, cursing the Ministry of Magic and French witches. He hadn't expected to be gone all day, but once Cornelius Fudge had him at the Ministry, he wouldn't let him go. All day he spent alternately placating the man about the international complaints or redirecting his ire onto others, like the French themselves. In the end and after all that work, he still wasn't sure that he had succeeded.

He had originally been convinced that if there were any problems, Madame Maxime would have to deal with them since it hadn't technically been his decision to pick the little veela - he had suggested it, but that was all. He couldn't be held responsible for a suggestion, could he? Perhaps not, but once the little veela had nearly died under the lake, all of the attention was focused on him, and he ended up shouldering most if not all of the blame for the entire sequence of events, regardless of his actual level of involvement.

 _How was I supposed to know that any magic affecting veela is significantly weakened in the cold or in water?_ he groused to himself. _It's not like there are enough veela here in Britain for me to be sufficiently familiar with their magic and biology._

At one point he had hoped that the fact that the complaint was about veela would help him - Fudge and his advisors were notorious for their unfortunate bigotry towards anything they didn't regard as entirely human. He hated such bigotry, yet the one time when it might have worked in his favor, it was actually disregarded. Apparently, the complaints came through the French Ministry of Magic, which had a close relationship with the veela, so for all intents and purposes the British Ministry had to treat the complaint as if it involved pureblood French witches. If they tried to dismiss it on the grounds that veela were inferior, they'd actually make the situation worse.

Dumbledore sighed as he looked at the mountain of parchment work on his desk - a mountain that had grown magically during the day while he was away. He hadn't gotten any of his regular work done, and he still needed to finish preparing for his interview with Miss Potter the following day. _First, though, I need to send a message to Alastor to have him make preparations to lock up the Triwizard Trophy_ , he thought. _We'll take care of that tomorrow after I place the portkey spell on it, and then only Alastor and I will be able to access it. That and other new security precautions were the only way I was able to keep the Ministry from interfering even more in the tournament._

He had known that today would be a bad day. Sometimes, Albus Dumbledore hated being right.

* * *

 **Monday, March 1, 1995, Late Night.**

Tom Riddle tossed and turned in his bassinet, unable to sleep. He wasn't in pain as he had been the night before, which was good, but he was still very uncomfortable. It was bad enough during the day when it distracted him from his planning and plotting. Now, however, it was keeping him from sleeping. He'd even taken extra potion in the hope that it would help, but it didn't. And now he would be low on his needed potion - if Wormtail didn't get back soon, he'd be in a lot of trouble.

He batted angrily at the mobile hanging above him. It had been a very annoying day, just as he had expected, but he'd _Crucio_ someone to make up for it. That would make it all right again. It always did.

* * *

Ron Weasley lay back in his bed with a contented sigh. He'd expected to get a normal breakfast, but somehow Jasmine and Hermione had convinced a couple of the elves to make a few special dishes just for him. They'd even gotten the recipes from his mother so that they'd be sure to make them right.

Then, that evening, they'd thrown a small birthday party in the common room with cake and presents. In addition to a bunch of chocolate frogs and cauldron cakes, Jasmine gave him a book on Quidditch, and Hermione got him a book about the history of broom racing. After the party, he'd taken the time to talk to them. He had wanted not only to thank them, but to repeat his earlier assurances that he'd work hard to make things up to them. They seemed to appreciate it, too, and it wasn't often that girls appreciated things he had to say.

He'd woken up that morning happy that it was his birthday and expecting that it would be a wonderful day. Ron Weasley loved being right.


	43. No More Mr Nice Guy

**Recommendation** : This chapter's recommended fic is "The Meeting" by Clell65619. In the epilogue, Harry and Draco nod to each other. Why? Well, this is one interesting and amusing explanation.

* * *

 **Chapter 43 - No More Mr. Nice Guy**

 **Tuesday, March 2, 1995, Morning.**

Wormtail sniffed around, thankful that while in his rat form his sense of smell was so much better. He recognized this area by the smell, despite not having been here in over fifteen years. As he came up over a rise, though, he did start to recognize some things visually. He transformed back into Peter Pettigrew, and from the vantage point of a human, the surroundings looked even more familiar. After he stepped through some brush, he finally saw Malfoy Manor.

His master had limited his exposure to the other Death Eaters to keep his identity a secret for as long as possible, so he had never spent much time at the Malfoy estates. The place was far too ostentatious for Peter's tastes — he was sure that Lucius Malfoy must be compensating for something. And what was with those peacocks, anyway?

He wasn't there for sightseeing, however, but to convince Lucius to return with him to help their master.

* * *

 **Tuesday, March 2, 1995, Late Morning.**

When Jasmine and Hermione entered Transfiguration, Professor McGonagall called Jasmine up to her desk and showed her a note that had come from the headmaster. "Why does he want to see me?" she asked. "And why now, when I should be in class?"

"He didn't tell me," her professor replied, "but I assume it's about the second task. The timing is a bit odd, though."

"And you can't leave class to be with me as my Head of House, can you?" Jasmine asked.

"No," McGonagall said with a frown, "and now that you mention it, I wonder if that's part of the reason for the timing." She sighed before continuing, "Regardless, you do have to go. I will remind you to be careful of what you say. Don't answer his questions with anything more than is absolutely necessary. Don't try to fill silences with your own chatter."

"In short," Jasmine said, "try to avoid volunteering information, because if he is working against me for whatever reason, he can use that information against me."

"Correct," McGonagall said. "I'm sorry you've had to learn that at such a young age, but hopefully it will help. And do try to stay calm. You'd best be off now. The password for today is Ice Mice."

"Thank you, Professor," Jasmine said. After having a quick word with Hermione to let her know what was going on, Jasmine made her way to the headmaster's office. The gargoyle accepted the password without an argument, and soon she found herself in his office for the first time that school year. The other times she'd been here, she'd been fascinated by her surroundings, but that was before she had made so many disturbing discoveries about the headmaster's actions. It was also before he put her girlfriend at the bottom of the Black Lake, completely disregarding Hermione's own desires and wellbeing.

Jasmine really did not want to be in that office, or anywhere near the headmaster. _Now that I think about it,_ she wondered, _why is this the first time this year that he's asked to see me? Why didn't he call me in to apologize for not successfully protecting the Goblet of Fire? To offer encouragement in my efforts during the tournament? To discuss how horribly I've been treated? To even just ask how I was doing? My life has been put in danger because of_ _ **his**_ _failure, and he responded by simply ignoring me until now?_

As soon as Fawkes saw her, the immortal bird seemed to sense her growing disquiet and began to trill softly, filling Jasmine's heart with warmth and making her feel a bit better about the unwelcome meeting. She had already gotten past the point of wanting to hex her headmaster on sight, but the trilling of Fawkes calmed her even more, making it possible for Jasmine to at least have a civil conversation with a man she no longer trusted or looked up to the way she used to.

Looking around, she noticed several unusual-looking trinkets on some of the bookcases scattered around the room. Jasmine frowned and thought, _I never really noticed them before, though I'm sure they were there. At least one must be a blood tracker for me, but what are the others? Are other people being tracked?_

"Welcome, Miss Potter," Dumbledore said, not noticing the sudden darkening of her mood. "I'm glad to see that Fawkes still approves of you so much. Phoenixes can be very picky and it's quite the compliment, I assure you."

"Thank you, Headmaster," Jasmine said as she sat down. "And thank you, too, Fawkes," she added.

"You must be wondering why I asked to see you this morning," Dumbledore said. Jasmine immediately noted that while this sounded like a question, it wasn't actually one. After talking to her the other day about what Professor Snape had done to her in Potions class, Professor McGonagall pointed out that the Headmaster seemed to like making statements that sounded like questions as a means of fishing for information.

Jasmine had never noticed it before, but suspected that he did it rather often. Since this didn't seem to be overt fishing, though, she decided to go along with it and answer. "Yes, sir."

After a moment of silence, the headmaster continued, "Well, I was hoping you could tell me about how you completed the second task."

 _Again, a non-question question_ , Jasmine thought suspiciously. _But I guess I can answer it._

"I think that the _Daily Prophet_ story was pretty accurate — which is a bit surprising for them, really," Jasmine answered.

"Surely there were some gaps in the story," Dumbledore cajoled. "Perhaps a few things that were inadvertently left out?"

"No, sir," Jasmine said, "I can't think of anything."

Dumbledore sighed and seemed to be annoyed at the witch's stubbornness, not that Jasmine really cared at that point. She was going to be polite because she had to, but she wasn't going to go out of her way to make his job easier.

"Why don't we start with your cooperation with the other champions," Dumbledore said in an effort to begin again. "Would you tell me why you chose to do that?"

"OK," Jasmine said. "Do you disapprove of the cooperation?"

"No, of course not," Dumbledore said, apparently getting frustrated again. "But the point of the Triwizard Tournament is competition, didn't you realize that?"

Jasmine let her eyes get wide when she said, "Really? I thought it was to foster international understanding and cooperation."

"Uh, well, yes," Dumbledore said, caught by how he had originally described the tournament when announcing it to the school. "It's just that it's hard to score a competition when the participants aren't competing."

Jasmine didn't bother to respond to that.

Dumbledore cleared his throat after a moment. "Yes, well, moving on. What can you tell me about the spells you used while under the lake?"

"Well, everything happened so fast, you know," she started. "One second we were working on freeing the hostages, the next we had merpeople charging at us from all sides with weapons pointed right at us. It was really scary." Dumbledore nodded in apparent understanding and encouraged her to continue.

"Once that happened, I just reacted and started casting banishing and cutting spells as quickly as I could." Jasmine deliberately avoided mentioning that the cutting "spell" was actually a powerful cutting _curse_ rather than the more common cutting _charm_ which they had recently learned. "I kept turning and casting in different directions to protect everyone. Once the merpeople pulled back, we finished freeing the hostages and left."

"And... that's it?" Dumbledore asked, a little surprised, apparently expecting more serious spells or a more interesting battle.

"Yes, sir," Jasmine answered with a little nod. "It was scary, but it didn't last long."

Dumbledore frowned. "Did you feel that you were casting with more power than usual? In fact, did you feel like you had more power than usual?"

"No, sir," Jasmine responded. "It felt about the same as it has for a while now."

"Are you sure that there's nothing else you want to tell me about the second task?" Dumbledore asked, now rather blatantly fishing for information.

"Yes, sir," Jasmine said, struggling to maintain a look of politeness rather than simply scowling. "I'm sure."

Because of his continual failure to get anything at all out of the Girl Who Lived, Dumbledore decided to risk a bit of Legilimency to see what she was thinking and hopefully learn some useful information. It wasn't something he liked to do very often, not just because it wasn't legal but because it was a serious invasion of the student's privacy, but it didn't cause any real harm to anyone and at times had proved to be an invaluable means for acquiring critical information.

With his blue eyes twinkling more than ever, he stared right into Jasmine's green eyes and pushed his magic forward, slipping into the young witch's mind where he had potential access to all her thoughts, dreams, and ideas. As he started to get images of Hermione Granger, Jasmine began to feel a tickling in the back of her mind. It confused her at first, but it soon dawned on her that this was a common symptom of being subjected to a slow, careful Legilimency attack.

She knew she didn't have the ability to fight such an attack no matter who was mounting it, much less when it was Albus Dumbledore, so she did the only thing she could: break eye contact and look at something else in the room — in this case, Fawkes, who trilled mournfully at her.

Dumbledore's head rocked back slightly at the sudden and unexpected loss of contact. _Did she detect my use of Legilimency?_ he wondered. _No, that's not possible. She wouldn't have any way to do that, not without weeks if not months of training, something she's never received. No, it must have been simply a coincidence that she looked over at Fawkes just then._

Deciding that he'd accomplished about as much as he was going to that morning, Dumbledore said, "Very well, Miss Potter, you may go. I must say, however, that I'm disappointed that you haven't seen fit to confide in me more." He thought that the grandfatherly demeanor combined with the tone of disappointment would make her feel ashamed and thus more pliable in the future, but he couldn't have been more wrong.

He never noticed the unshed tears in her eyes at the betrayal she had just experienced.

* * *

Lucius Malfoy sneered contemptuously at the dumpy, snivelling man before him. As a member of Lord Voldemort's inner circle, he had of course known that Peter Pettigrew, best friend of the blood traitors James Potter and Sirius Black, had been a spy, but that didn't mean that he liked the man. As a matter of fact, he didn't like very many of those who were in service to his master. Most were so far beneath him in culture and breeding that he wouldn't let them lick his custom-made dragonhide boots.

Nevertheless, as a faithful servant of the Dark Lord, he had forced himself to learn to deal with such cretins. And now, the most cretinous of all had snuck into his home and started spinning a tale about how their master was preparing to gain a new body, but demanded help from the Malfoy family. _I should have thought to reconfigure the wards years ago_ , Lucius lamented, _and remove people like this that the Dark Lord had required me to key in. Well, that's something I'll have to take care of soon._

"Explain to me why I should believe you, worm," Lucius said haughtily. "And do it quickly, before I lose my patience and make you regret ever sneaking into my manor."

Pettigrew was clearly afraid, but he continued, "Our Lord told me one of your secrets, something he discovered when performing Legilimency on you. It's something you wouldn't want known by others and that I wouldn't have been able to learn on my own."

Lucius' eyes narrowed at the prospect of this worm knowing any of his secrets, much less something that the Dark Lord had been able to discover. "You tread on dangerous ground…."

"I am only fulfilling our Lord's will," Pettigrew interrupted. "If you wish proof, I will give it to you. If the proof angers you, then complain to our Lord."

"Very well," Lucius ground out, "what is your so-called proof." _If this worm already knows any of my secrets,_ he thought, _then it's too late for me to do anything about it and I might as well find out what he knows. If he doesn't know any genuine secrets, then I'll have all the more of an excuse to eliminate him._

"According to the Dark Lord," Pettigrew said slowly, clearly enjoying this, "you have a curious penchant for drinking polyjuice that's been keyed to a certain individual and then having your wife…"

"Enough!" Lucius shouted. Leaning over Pettigrew and pulling his wand from his cane, he continued in a low, menacing tone, "Don't you dare finish that sentence. Don't you dare even **think** about that sentence. And if anyone else learns about this, I'll know it was you."

"Or it was the Dark Lord," Pettigrew said defiantly. He looked intimidated, but not _that_ intimidated. That as much as anything convinced Lucius. It was clear that the small man at least **believed** that he was protected by the Dark Lord and there was nothing that Lucius could do to him.

 _That will change, though, and when it does, I will deal with you_ , Lucius promised himself.

* * *

 **Tuesday, March 2, 1995, Lunch.**

Albus Dumbledore decided to take lunch in his office because he needed time alone to think about his meeting with Miss Potter. He had expected to gain some useful information from her: like many witches her age she could be quite talkative, especially when nervous about something… such as being called into the headmaster's office without warning. Instead he had found himself facing a rather recalcitrant young witch who was borderline hostile.

Then his use of Legilimency unexpectedly failed when she looked away. _Maybe Severus can try later and get something when she's more unprepared_ , he considered. Thoughts of the Potions professor made him realize that talking to Miss Potter had been like interviewing a Slytherin student from one of the darker families — someone suspicious of everyone and with at least rudimentary training in how to deal with being interrogated. _What's changed about you, Miss Potter?_ he wondered. _What's caused these changes in your behavior and attitude?_

Dumbledore decided to start from the beginning and catalog what was different about this year to see if he could identify any common factors that might explain everything. _The most obvious of course is the Triwizard Tournament_ , he considered. _There's a lot of stress involved with that. She's been under stress before, though, and helping her to handle such stress has been part of the point of how I've tried to arrange events around her. It will be such a critical skill for her as she grows up, and this year has unexpectedly demonstrated just how valuable it can be. I shudder to think of how much worse this year would have been for her if I hadn't been preparing her._

He then considered her age and wondered if the changes in her might have something to do with puberty, but set that possible explanation aside for the time being because he simply didn't know enough about the subject to say for sure. The meetings with the veela were likely related to the unexpected cooperation among all the champions, so he ignored that as a solved mystery and irrelevant now.

 _Her magical skills and possibly her power have also increased... that might perhaps be a result of the recent extra practice and training all year with Miss Granger_ , he reflected, _but would that explain the amount of change? And what about her change in attitude?_ Abruptly he stood up and began pacing back and forth in his office, his lunch forgotten. The suddenness of his movements caused Fawkes to squawk in alarm while some of the portraits started taking a closer interest in the headmaster.

 _Could that be it?_ he wondered. _Miss Granger was the only student to believe that Miss Potter didn't cheat to enter the tournament. She has also been helping Miss Potter all year with practicing new spells. She's been involved in the meetings with the French champion. She was the dominant feature in Miss Potter's mind earlier today. And she was, of course, the choice for what Miss Potter would treasure most — possibly an even better choice than Mr. Longbottom, given the long, close association the two witches have had._

Dumbledore stopped then and sighed. He wished now that he had been paying closer attention to Miss Potter this year. If he had, maybe he'd have been able to identify the source of her changes more easily. He might have even been able to nip them in the bud much earlier, instead of being surprised by them now at this late date.

 _Well, regardless of how late it is_ , he thought, _I hope there is something I can do. If her current attitudes and behavior are allowed to continue unchecked, it might interfere with our efforts against Tom. It won't do for the Girl Who Lived to keep developing as much hate and anger as I saw in her eyes just before the second task, especially if she has grown in power. She needs to be pulled back from that dark path before it's too late._

Sitting back down again so he could finish his lunch, he began musing aloud. "But what am I going to do about you, Miss Granger, and how exactly are you leading our Miss Potter astray? Maybe your anger at the bigotry in the magical world is influencing her negatively? What can I do to alter the influence you've had on her? Hmm... perhaps something to do with the relationship you two have? Weaken the relationship and you weaken the influence. That would be quite unfortunate, though, as she benefits so much from your help. I'll have to think about that."

Fawkes sat on the perch in a corner, a sad look on his face. The old wizard hadn't exactly gone dark, but he was treading dangerous ground and taking a path that threatened to go dark if he wasn't a great deal more careful than he had been lately. There was a limit to how much one could try to control people while still staying on the side of the light, regardless of how good one's ultimate goals were.

Unfortunately, Albus Dumbledore had been involved in politics for so long that he seemed to be losing sight of those limits. Fawkes lamented how the so-called "Greater Good" was increasingly being pursued without regard for, and sometimes in contravention of, so many lesser goods. It was almost as if he had forgotten that one can't have a greater good without lesser goods to build upon.

Fawkes still wanted to help, but was starting to despair at ever finding a way — or at least a way that didn't entail going against the old wizard.

Dumbledore stopped talking as he started to eat, but he had been heard quite clearly by the portraits that were paying attention, including one from the House of Black.

* * *

 **Tuesday, March 2, 1995, Afternoon.**

"Potter!" Professor Snape shouted. "Where did you learn how to dice dried oliphant ears? Five points from Gryffindor for sloppy work!"

Jasmine's experience with the day's Potions class started going downhill not five minutes in with Draco Malfoy smirking and making snide comments much more than usual, and it only picked up speed from there. It didn't help that she had been in bad shape even before class started. The tickling sensation that she had experienced from the headmaster's Legilimency attack had grown into a headache during lunch. She was tempted to go to Madam Pomfrey, but she wasn't sure the school healer could help, and she didn't want to announce that she knew what had happened to her.

What was more, she was so upset at what happened that she was unable to explain to any of her friends exactly what was wrong. They could all tell that she was in a bad way, especially Hermione, but she just withdrew in on herself when they pressed, so they stopped that in favor of just trying to offer comforting words. Sadly, comforting words were the very last thing she'd ever get to experience during a Potions class.

"Potter!" Snape shouted again. "The pickled gargoyle dandruff has to be sprinkled evenly across the potion in the cauldron. Can't you read simple instructions?" Jasmine looked up at the board and saw nothing about how the dandruff was supposed to be added, but she declined to say anything because she knew from experience that it would just make things worse. "Five points from Gryffindor for failing to follow directions!"

Jasmine started to shake slightly in anger. A few days ago the Headmaster had endangered Hermione, and this morning Jasmine had endured a mental assault from him, despite the fact that it was supposed to be his responsibility to protect his students. Now, a man he had personally ensured was kept out of prison was bullying and verbally assaulting her with impunity. The unfairness of it all was hitting her much harder than usual, and she'd gone way, way past her limit.

Snape could almost certainly see the effect he was having on her, which was probably why he chose that time to strike with his own Legilimency attack.

"Potter!" Snape hissed. "Haven't you learned to look at your professors when they're talking to you?" Of course she looked up when he said that, and that was when he struck.

Unfortunately for Jasmine, he was far, far less gentle or subtle than the headmaster had been. The headmaster hadn't wanted to harm her, just gain a bit of insight he thought he deserved and needed. Snape, in contrast, didn't care how much discomfort or distress he caused her, just so long as he achieved his goal. His attack hit the young witch hard enough to instantly make her headache much worse.

Unfortunately for Snape, Jasmine had been spending the past few minutes fantasizing about her favorite ways of having him die a slow, painful death.

Jasmine was quite a ways off from learning how to repel a mental attack from anyone, much less from an master like Severus Snape. However, the potions professor was so shocked at the horrific, graphic images that he encountered upon barging into her mind that he instinctively stumbled backwards to escape them. When he did so, he accidentally bumped into Draco Malfoy, causing the boy's cauldron to overturn and spill the potion all over himself and his partner, Pansy Parkinson.

The Potions class turned into instant chaos as soon as the students saw what was happening to Malfoy and Parkinson. Some thought they saw the pair's faces melting off; others insisted that the two had become fused into a single, mutant Slytherin. Still others would later claim that the Draco and Pansy had been turned inside out.

Whatever they saw, the other students began vomiting right into their own cauldrons, causing the volatile mixtures to start exploding into the ceiling. Fortunately most of the students managed to hide under the tables or simply flee the room screaming. Snape had the presence of mind to put a stasis charm on Malfoy and Parkinson before telling everyone that class was cancelled.

As they left, they could hear him cry out, "And another fifty points from Gryffindor, Potter, for sabotaging a fellow student's work!"

* * *

 **Tuesday, March 2, 1995, Night.**

Lucius Malfoy looked around his private office and wondered if he'd ever return. Not coming back from a meeting with the Dark Lord was always a possibility, but right now that loomed larger than ever because of all the unknowns he was facing. And judging by the way Pettigrew kept twitching, he concluded that the Dark Lord had grown even fonder of the _Cruciatus_ curse than he used to be, which was saying something.

Not going, however, was never an option — not once Pettigrew had made it abundantly clear that he truly had been sent by the Dark Lord. There was no way that Lucius could refuse to obey a summons, no matter what the risks. This was something he had accepted when he first took the Dark Mark not even a year after graduating from Hogwarts. It was part of the price he'd had to pay for the glory and greatness which the Dark Lord promised his followers.

"Let's go, you cur!" he shouted at Pettigrew in an attempt to cover up his fear with bluster and bullying. It usually worked.

* * *

Jasmine and Hermione lay curled up together in bed, hidden from everyone behind sealed and silenced bed curtains. After dinner, Jasmine had finally told Hermione what had happened to her, both during her meeting with the headmaster and then later during their disastrous Potions class. "I feel so... so... **violated** , Hermione. He didn't ask permission. He didn't care about my feelings — just like he gave no thought to your wishes when he used you as a hostage. What did he want? What was he looking for? What's **wrong** with him?"

"I don't know," Hermione said softly as she stroked Jasmine's hair.

"It was like catching a dirty old man looking through my diary or digging through my knicker drawer," Jasmine said. "Twice! But at the same time, it was also worse somehow. My thoughts, if nothing else, are **mine** and should be truly private. Yet both of those teachers just plunged into my mind as if they had a right to those thoughts!"

"It's..." Hermione said tentatively, not sure about the comparison that came to her, "it's a bit like rape, isn't it? He took something private and personal from you."

Jasmine nodded her head, unable to say anything more.

It was all Hermione could do to keep from storming through the castle and trying out a few of the darker curses on those so-called adults. It took a lot to get Hermione Granger mad, and especially mad to the point of violence, but two nearly back-to-back mental assaults on her girlfriend did the trick.

She considered trying to find out if they could press criminal charges, but in the end decided that it didn't matter because there was probably no way to prove it — and who was going to take the word of two underage witches over that of the esteemed Albus Dumbledore? No, all they could do was add these incidents to their ever-growing list of complaints and hope that someday, someone with real power would take them seriously.

In the meantime, Hermione just lay there and held Jasmine close. She'd hold her all night, if that's what it took.

* * *

Severus Snape was startled when he heard the knocking on his door and scowled as he waved his wand to open it. "Headmaster?" he said, surprised to see the older wizard standing outside his quarters. It was very rare indeed that the Headmaster came to see him — when he was needed, he was summoned to the Headmaster's office. "Come in," he said, gesturing to the second chair sitting in front of the fireplace. "Is there something wrong?"

"I heard you had a rather interesting day in potions, Severus," Dumbledore said with a twinkle in his eye as he sat. "Some sort of accident with Mr. Malfoy and Miss Parkinson, I believe?"

Snape scowled and replied, "I wouldn't call it 'interesting' myself. Just the usual sort of nonsense that I've come to expect when Slytherin and Gryffindor students are forced to work together during their Potions class. I don't know why you insist on shoving them into the same classes, then act surprised when there are serious altercations and accidents every year."

"Why, my boy, I thought it was obvious," the headmaster responded, seemingly disappointed in his Potions professor. "We can't expect them to ever get over their rivalry and grudges if they don't learn how to work together. I know it seems bad now, but think of how much worse it would be if they didn't spend so much time working together!"

Snape raised one eyebrow slightly in skeptical surprise, to which the headmaster continued, "Yes, yes, it's true. One thing I've learned in my long life is that separation leads to ignorance, which leads to mistrust, which leads to conflict. Forcing them together is the only way to cure all of that, and I'm certain that the situation now is much better than it otherwise would be."

Snape would shake his head in disbelief if he could, but he dared not. He suspected that this was one of those times when it was best to leave the headmaster with his delusions. Anyone else would be able to see that none of the students came to Hogwarts with the maturity necessary to do what the headmaster wanted, but the older students who did have the requisite maturity had been poisoned by several years of learned hostility in the classes. As a consequence, the headmaster's well-meaning policy was making matters worse, not better.

"You wanted to see me about something?" he asked, trying to change the subject.

"Yes, indeed," Dumbledore responded. "It concerns Miss Potter again. I have a bit of a problem with her, and I was hoping you might be able to help."

"What sort of problem?" he asked, surprised that the Headmaster would admit to having any kind of issue with his Golden Girl. _I've been complaining about her and her rule-breaking tendencies ever since she showed up at Hogwarts, strutting into the Great Hall like she owned the place, but no one ever listens to me. On the contrary, the rest of the staff seem to want to just continue feeding her ego by letting the pampered, spoiled little princess get away with anything she wants. I'm the only one who can see how much like her arrogant father she really is, no matter how much she might look like Lily._

"Were you able to get anything from her today, by the way?" Dumbledore asked casually.

Snape scowled and said, "No, I didn't. I never had the opportunity." He hated admitting failure like that, but it was better than telling the old man the truth and that he'd allowed himself to be driven out by her very thoughts.

"Pity," the headmaster said with a sigh. "Perhaps you can try again later?" When Snape nodded brusquely, Dumbledore continued, "Miss Potter doesn't seem to trust me anymore, and she's acting in ways that are starting to trouble me. She's become very reclusive, she's been meeting others in secret, and she's been unusually angry — even at me. The origin of all of this is somewhat uncertain, but I'm confident that Miss Granger is at the heart of it. What I'd like is for their relationship to fracture, at least somewhat. I'd rather that they not be completely at odds, but ultimately my goal is to reduce Miss Granger's influence on Miss Potter."

"Really?" Snape asked. "Do you think that's wise? I'm not sure it's ever a good idea to interfere with teenage relationships, and Granger has been critical for Potter's grades." He also wasn't sure that anything the headmaster described really counted as a "problem," but he didn't feel much like arguing about it.

"I'm afraid so, Severus," the Headmaster said sadly. "It pains me greatly to have to do this, it really does. I hate to see a good friendship suffer, but not all friendships are for the best — not in the long run. Some friends, no matter how close you are to them, and no matter how wonderful the relationship seems to be, only end up causing more harm than good."

Snape had a feeling that Dumbledore wasn't talking about Granger and Potter anymore, but he dared not ask directly. "And you want me to do this, Headmaster?" he asked.

"Only if you think you can," Dumbledore answered. "Like I said, I don't want them to be enemies, and I certainly don't want them hurt, but a bit of extra stress in their lives — or perhaps just the life of Miss Granger — might cause them to separate a bit."

Snape had been fuming all afternoon over what Potter had done to him, and he longed for some way to get back at the brat. Here he was practically being ordered by the Headmaster to do something that was bound to upset her and make her life miserable — especially if he could arrange to push things a bit further than the headmaster wanted. How could he possibly say no?

"I'm honestly not certain what I can do," Snape said slowly, trying not to let on just how happy this job might make him, "but I will spend some time thinking about what is possible and I'll let you know tomorrow. Is that acceptable?"

"Yes, yes, thank you Severus," the Headmaster replied as he stood once again. "You know I really appreciate all you do."

With that, Snape stood as well and gave the headmaster a curt nod. Once the older wizard had left his quarters, he pondered what sorts of things he might be able to do, but he found that there really weren't many options available to him. Oh, there was a myriad of ways he could annoy and upset one or the other of the two Gryffindors, but any of them would likely only cause the witches to close ranks in defense of each other.

 _No, I need something far subtler and cleverer_ , he considered as he stared into the fire. _Something that doesn't even appear to include my involvement, so they aren't tempted to unite against a common foe._

It was then that he had a most curious idea: Draco Malfoy. It wasn't because Malfoy was subtle or clever — just the opposite was the case, in fact — but rather because he might make for a convenient patsy. Granted, the young Malfoy was just as much of a foe to those witches as he himself was, but Malfoy had the advantage of being a student, which opened up one particular avenue that was otherwise closed to Snape: the student rumor mill.

 _If Malfoy can get the right sorts of rumors into circulation, that might create exactly the sort of stress the Headmaster is looking for_ , Snape concluded. _I remember how devastating rumors could be to some of the witches I had classes with. No one person can be blamed, and depending on the rumors, it will be harder for them to close ranks and unite against an unknown and unseen opposition._

Snape sighed, unsure of just how confident he should be in this idea. _I may have seen how some witches reacted to rumors, but that doesn't mean I know enough about how a witch's mind works to devise the sort that will do what I want. And they've already dealt with hostility from other students this year. Short of simply kicking Granger out of Hogwarts, though, I don't see anything else as very workable. I will call Mr. Malfoy to my office first thing in the morning,_ he decided, _and see what we can work out. Maybe rumors of one going behind the other's back? He will probably have to rely heavily on Miss Parkinson._

* * *

Once he was back in his office, Albus Dumbledore again agonized over his decision to interfere in the friendship between Miss Potter and Miss Granger. "Am I doing the right thing?" he asked Fawkes, but the phoenix had just about given up on trying to give him advice — the old man never listened anyway, he simply went ahead and did whatever he wanted. Nevertheless, Fawkes trilled a mournful cry to indicate that the headmaster was making a poor choice here.

"Yes, you're right, it is a sad day when a friend leads you down the wrong path," Dumbledore replied. Fawkes trilled again, wondering why he bothered. "Indeed, my friend," Dumbledore said, "however unfortunate it may be, it will probably prove necessary in the long run. Desperate times call for desperate measures. And besides, they are still quite young." The headmaster seemed to take heart from his own words. "Yes, that's right — as young as they are, they have plenty of time to make new friends. They'll both bounce back, I'm sure of it."

Thus reassured, Dumbledore popped a sherbet lemon into his mouth and went about completing that day's parchment work.


	44. Bad Reputation

**Recommendation** : This chapter's recommended fic is "Harry Potter's Life Lessons" by DisobedienceWriter. The Dursleys' abuse of Harry doesn't make him meek and pliable, it makes him sneaky and suspicious — exactly what Dumbledore doesn't want.

* * *

 **Chapter 44 - Bad Reputation**

 **Wednesday, March 3, 1995, Very Early Morning.**

Lucius Malfoy sneered in disgust when he and Pettigrew first approached the dilapidated manor house the Dark Lord was hiding in, but he had schooled his face into an expressionless mask by the time they arrived at the front door. No matter how awful the place seemed, it would be dangerous if the Dark Lord thought Malfoy was looking down on him. His master was too prideful to bear such an insult in silence.

 _I just hope I don't have a sneezing fit from all of this dust_ , he thought a bit fearfully as they walked through the parlor. _The last Death Eater to have a sneezing fit in front of the Dark Lord had his lungs removed through his nose. That might be why there are never any cats around him or his followers._

It took all of Lucius' training and self-control to hold on to his mask of indifference once they entered the Dark Lord's presence. Malfoy was certain that Pettigrew hadn't warned him about their master's state specifically so he could enjoy watching when the blonde Death Eater saw the ugly little baby-thing for the first time. Malfoy was certain that if he had expressed anything close to his true feelings, he'd be put under the cruciatus for days at the very least — something that Pettigrew's limping and occasional drooling suggested had already been happening here.

Despite his revulsion at the sight of the thing in the bassinet, hearing it speak drove out any doubts he might have had about its true identity.

"Wormtail!" it called out. "It's about time you returned! If We didn't have important business to conduct with Lucius here, you'd feel Our wrath for your tardiness. Now go milk Nagini and leave us in peace until We call for you!"

Once they were alone, the baby-thing looked hard at Malfoy and said, "It's been a long time, Lucius, but I see that you are looking awfully well." The words sounded like a casual compliment, but Malfoy had been in the service of the Dark Lord long enough to hear the menace and underlying threat. The message was clear: Lord Voldemort was not happy at how radically different their fortunes had been over the past decade and a half.

"I have done my utmost to ensure that I could be prepared for Your return, my Lord," Malfoy said as obsequiously as he possibly could while bowing down low. "I have increased both the gold in my vaults and my influence in the Ministry. It all stands ready and at Your disposal."

"Good, good," the baby thing said with a chuckle. "You have done well, then. We, unfortunately, are not doing so well." Malfoy froze, fearing that he hadn't been humble enough. "We will have use of what you offer Us, but not at the moment. First, We need to get ourselves into a more stable and proper body. This one was only ever supposed to be temporary, but it appears to be having problems sooner than expected. We are experiencing excruciating pain on a regular basis."

"What can I do, my Lord?" Malfoy asked, still bowing low.

"We have determined that moving Our plans forward is Our best course of action. The original plan was to kidnap Jasmine Potter during the third and last task of the Triwizard Tournament. Now We must change that so she can be kidnapped and brought here for a re-embodiment ritual — and as soon as possible."

Malfoy thought for a moment, then said, "I will need to see the details about this ritual in order to have reliable alternatives to offer You, my Lord, but the seventeenth of this month is the night of the full moon, and that is often an auspicious time for rituals of all sorts, as well as beginning magical projects."

"Yes!" the baby-thing squeaked, forcing Malfoy to hold in a snort of derision. "That would be a good time. Wormtail can bring you the relevant books later. First, let Us tell you what We have done thus far." And so the Dark Lord filled Malfoy in on everything that had been done to prepare Jasmine Potter to become a sacrifice at the resurrection of Lord Voldemort.

Because Potter had been such a thorn in the side of both Malfoy and his son, he was greatly looking forward to the event. He just hoped that his master would grant him the privilege of exacting some... _personal_ retribution against the much-despised Girl Who Lived.

* * *

 **Wednesday, March 3, 1995, Afternoon.**

Draco Malfoy couldn't believe his luck. Just this morning his head of house had practically given him permission to trash the reputation of that mudblood Granger. Snape's vaguely worded instructions fit in perfectly with Malfoy's desire to attack Potter using Rita Skeeter. Malfoy had no idea that his professor had been exacting in his choice of words so as to ensure plausible deniability for himself; Snape had no idea that Malfoy didn't realize this and consequently didn't understand his task as clearly as he should have.

Of course, Professor Snape probably assumed that Malfoy was simply going to spread some unflattering rumors around school, but he decided to surprise his professor by going above and beyond: he was going to spread those rumors across all of wizarding Britain! And maybe even farther!

He'd had trouble deciding what sort of story to feed to Skeeter, and it had already been three days since she'd talked to him. _That might work to my advantage, though_ , he considered. _She's probably even more desperate now than she was before, which will make her eager to take whatever I give her._

"Mr. Malfoy?" came a voice from behind him.

"Gah!" he screamed in a shrill, high-pitched voice as he jumped in the air. When he turned around, he saw Rita Skeeter standing there, acid-green quill in hand. "How'd you get behind me like that?" he demanded.

"Trade secret," she answered with a nasty grin. "Your owl this morning did say to meet you in this spot and at this time. So what do you have for me?"

Once Malfoy's heart stopped racing, he said, "I have a story for you about the mudbl... er, muggleborn student that Jasmine Potter spends so much time with. It turns out that they have secrets — secrets involving their relationship.

"A scandal?" Skeeter asked excitedly. "How delicious!" Malfoy didn't miss how Skeeter's eyes lit up at his words. He had known that a simple story about backstabbing wouldn't work; he had known that he needed something more salacious to attract the attention of this reporter. And he had been right.

"Do you have any evidence?" Skeeter asked

"No," Malfoy said, "It's not like I could get photos or anything…."

"Pity," Skeeter interrupted. "Those I'd pay good money for."

Malfoy sniffed, "I have no need of money, my family is rich. But regardless, I have arranged for other students to come here every fifteen minutes so they can talk to you too. It's not just me who knows about this." He wasn't going to tell her that these "other students" were all allies of his family to whom he'd fed this story already, thus ensuring that they'd all say the same thing.

"Oh!" Skeeter said, now sounding a lot more intrigued. "Well, that's good to hear. I always like to get a variety of quotes from lots of different people. It really spices a story up and adds a nice human factor." Skeeter's Quik Quotes Quill started writing in her pad. "So, why don't you get started and tell me all about this inappropriate relationship that the Girl Who Lived is having with... who did you say it was, again?"

Malfoy grinned evilly as he began his tale.

* * *

Sirius Black really, really wanted a drink, but that would defeat the point of getting counseling. It also wouldn't be possible, since the house elf had dumped all the alcohol on the premises, on the orders of his mother's portrait. It was an infuriating situation to be in. Still, it was an improvement over the direction he had been headed in. He also had to admit that he was surprised at how well his conversations with Elladora Black were going.

His mother… er, the _portrait_ of his mother... had told him that there were two portraits in the house of Black who had been healers and who could help, even if that meant going to their other frames in St. Mungo's and getting advice from mind healers there. However, he really seemed to hit it off with the portrait of Elladora Black and decided to work with her exclusively.

Sirius had grown up hearing stories about his great-great-great-aunt Elladora, most of which were only repeated in whispers and when kids weren't supposed to be listening. He never learned what she did to merit such a scandalous reputation within the family, and her portrait wouldn't talk about it, but he always figured that whatever it was, it must have meant she had to have been one of his very few good relatives. Whatever it was also either wasn't generally known or wasn't considered scandalous outside the family, otherwise she wouldn't have been able to become a respected mind healer in her day.

So far he was really enjoying his time with her, even if she refused to interact with him on anything but a professional basis. Somehow, her healer code of ethics had been transferred into her portrait.

Sirius was beginning to think that there must be something odd about Black family magic and how it interacted with magical portraits, because that made two portraits in the house that were acting a bit odd compared to what he was accustomed to. Though to be fair, the portrait of Elladora was mostly "odd" in that she was unlike other members of the Black family — personable, friendly, and even caring. The portrait of his mother was odd in many more ways, starting with her more tolerant attitudes and continuing to specifics of behavior.

Fortunately, "odd" in this case mostly meant "good," and it was working to his benefit. Still, it was something that bore observation in case the situation changed for the worse.

"Sirius!" his moth... er, his mother's portrait called out to him. _Damn_ , he thought. _Is it a sign that I really am going crazy that I keep thinking of that portrait as if it were actually her? That's what seems to have driven Kreacher 'round the bend, and look at him! If that's what's happening to me, maybe I shouldn't stay here..._

"Sirius!" she called again a bit more impatiently, and he set that thought aside for another time.

"Yes?" he replied when he was in front of her.

"Have you heard back about getting new secondary frames for the portraits here?" she asked.

"No, sorry," he answered.

"That's a pity," she said. "We really could use them in the meeting room that Kreacher is preparing. We elder Blacks need to be able to talk more often."

"Oh, believe me, I know," Sirius said. When Kreacher wasn't able to take care of it, he was drafted into hauling portraits around the house so they could talk more easily. It was incredibly annoying. "I'll write again, just to encourage them to hurry up."

"Thank you," the portrait of Walburga Black said in a voice that almost sounded genuinely grateful to Sirius. "How is your counseling going? Are you feeling any better?"

Sirius hesitated a little before answering, "Yes, actually, I am. It's a bit of a surprise that talking about my problems at all would help, never mind talking about them to a portrait, but it really seems to be doing me good. I thought that dredging up all of my problems and past issues would only make them worse. I've preferred to forget about whatever I could. Apparently, though, that's actually the wrong way to do things." Sirius didn't mention that his mother was one of his biggest problems from his past that he had preferred to forget about, and of course was something Elladora insisted on discussing.

"I'm not surprised, frankly," the portrait responded. "Elladora always did have a reputation of being easy to talk to. She was often a favorite of anyone who married into the family because she was so warm and friendly. Well, relative to the rest of the family she was, at least. She was, for example, rather close to Dorea's mother, Violette, who was a Bulstrode before she married into the Black family." The portrait stopped and looked to be lost in thought for a moment before adding, "In fact, Dorea once mentioned that her mother had told her that Elladora was the reason Dorea got her name, though she didn't know the exact details."

"I'll certainly agree that she's unusually warm and friendly for a Black," Sirius said. "Or at least her portrait is, and if it's anything like she was in life, I'm sorry I never got to know her."

Walburga's image nodded and said, "You aren't the first to say that. Now, back to what I called you down here for. A message was sent through the other portraits from Phineas. Apparently, the headmaster is conspiring against a muggleborn friend of Jasmine Dorea."

"What?!" exclaimed Sirius. There was only one muggleborn friend that he was aware of, and if anyone was conspiring against her, there'd be hell to pay. And then, when Jasmine was done with them, Sirius would add in his two knuts as well.

"Yes. I don't know the details, but it's a plan to drive some sort of wedge between the two of them," Walburga explained. "You'll need to ask Phineas for the details, though I got the impression that he didn't know very much."

"I'll do that, thank you," Sirius growled. "I hope you're wrong, though, because I have a feeling that Jasmine is very, very protective of that friend of hers. It's Hermione, by the way, the one who prepared all of that information about the headmaster."

"Oh?" Walburga replied. "She seems to have a good, organized mind. She's the one you described as being incredibly intelligent, correct?"

Sirius nodded. "She's often the brains behind what she and Jasmine get up to. She came up with the plan that saw me rescued from being kissed by a dementor. She figured out that a basilisk was petrifying students. She's the smartest witch I've ever known."

"Hm, quite surprising, given her inferior muggle background," Walburga commented. "Perhaps she's actually from a lost squib line? That would explain how she's doing so well. It would be a shame if she were separated from Jasmine Dorea. And you say that they are very close? Protective of each other?"

Sirius nodded again. "They are inseparable." He watched as the portrait of his mother got a very thoughtful look on her face. "What is it?" he asked.

"Nothing," the portrait responded, "Just some old memories that I'd forgotten about. I'm curious to see them interact. I'd also be interested to learn more about this mud... er, muggleborn friend. Maybe we can find out which noble family she actually descends from. Have you talked to Elladora about them?"

"No," Sirius said, not sure he understood the direction this was going. "They haven't come up."

"You should do so," she said. "It will help if Elladora understands more about the people in your life." Sirius nodded in understanding, even though he didn't really feel like he understood anything at all. "Before you go talk to Phineas, though, have you gathered all the information you can on blood tracking spells?"

"Yes," he answered. "It's not as much as I'd like, but it should be more than enough for Hermione to work with."

"Good," Walburga said. "When you get done talking to Phineas, be sure to arrange a meeting as soon as you can with your goddaughter. Then we need to talk about Dumbledore and the list of questionable actions that she gave you. I may have some insights to offer."

* * *

 **Wednesday, March 3, 1995, Evening.**

It was rare for Hogwarts students to get mail at any time other than breakfast, so when Draco Malfoy saw an owl flying towards him at dinner, he was surprised and concerned. Once he realized that he didn't recognize the owl, he started to wonder if it was Rita Skeeter trying to contact him for some reason. Upon removing the parchment from the owl's leg, he decided that he had become the object of far too much attention to warrant reading it there, so he casually finished his meal and strolled out of the Great Hall and towards the Slytherin dorms in the dungeon.

It wasn't until he was safely behind the spelled curtains of his bed that he opened the letter, surprised to find that it was from his father. _Why didn't he use one of our family owls?_ he wondered. There was no doubt that it was from his father, though, because he used the correct words to signal that the letter was genuine, that he was not under duress, and moreover that the contents of the letter were of the utmost importance — something Draco had never seen before.

The letter not only failed to answer Draco's question about why a strange owl was used, but also raised even more questions for the young Malfoy heir. According to his father, it was imperative that Draco gather any and all information possible about the habits, behaviors, and movements of Jasmine Potter. _Why does he care so much about her and what her daily life is like?_ he wondered. _What is he planning? And why?_

Draco had been trained well enough not to let those questions slow his response. The language used made it clear that the tasks he was being given were very important, and he had no intention of disappointing his father. _Besides_ , he concluded, _whatever he's planning can't possibly be good for that half-blooded bint, and that's good news for me._

Deciding that if this information really was as important as the letter indicated, then it would be better to act sooner rather than later, he retrieved writing materials from his desk and immediately began to put everything he knew to parchment. _This will show Father how useful my observations already are_ , he thought. _I'll send this out first thing in the morning with a note that I'll update with more details every couple of days._

* * *

 **Thursday, March 4, 1995, Morning.**

"Greetings, Lucius," the tiny homunculus said in the sibilant voice that had long characterized the Dark Lord. "Wormtail informed Us that you received an owl this morning. What is the news?" Lucius frowned inwardly, annoyed at himself for not having made sure that he had been unobserved when receiving the message and promising himself once again to ensure that Pettigrew met with an unfortunate accident at the earliest opportunity.

"It was a response from my son, my Lord," Lucius said as he bowed low in front of the bassinet.

"Already?" the Dark Lord asked, a touch of surprise in his question.

"Yes, my Lord," Lucius replied. "Although I did not expect to hear from him so soon, he is endeavoring to fulfill our needs as quickly as possible. In his letter he included everything that he already knew about the Potter girl's habits, behavior, and friends. He asks me to inform him if there is anything I need more details about and promises to send updates every two days. He anticipates having more because he had not previously been watching for everything that we wanted."

"Good, good," came the response. "Your son does you proud, acting so quickly to provide Us with what We need." He paused for a moment, then continued with an edge of menace to his voice, "You did not inform your son about Our presence, did you?"

"No, my Lord!" Lucius replied quickly. "Draco knows nothing about You or Your plans. All he knows is that I desire the information, nothing more."

"Excellent," the Dark Lord replied. "We are pleased to hear this, but now it is time to make plans for taking the Potter bint from Hogwarts. The original plan would have seen her portkeyed away, but that was only going to work because of special circumstances surrounding the Triwizard Cup. Now another plan is needed, and quickly."

"Yes, my Lord," Lucius replied. "Aside from Your spy in Hogwarts, what other resources do we have?"

"You, Wormtail, and Nagini are our resources here while Our spy and Draco are our resources at Hogwarts." Lucius blanched slightly at the mention of Draco possibly being used and was glad that his low bow prevented this reaction from being seen up in the bassinet.

"I'm not sure exactly how Draco would be able to help kidnap—"

"No need for false modesty," the Dark Lord said with an amused tone. "Your son is doing very well so far! He will make a fine Death Eater some day, following proudly in your footsteps, and all due to your excellent teachings, We are sure. So perhaps it's time for him to start taking steps towards that glorious future that awaits him, and what better way than to provide critical aid in Our resurrection!" This was followed by high-pitched cackling that set Lucius' teeth on edge, but he dared not say anything against his Lord's plans.

 _If Draco is destined to play a role in this, then there's nothing I can do but help ensure that he gets as much protection and support as I can muster_ , Lucius concluded. _It's a good thing that we're doing all of this here rather than at Malfoy Manor, because Narcissa would throw a fit if she knew what the Dark Lord might have in store for our son._

It was at that point that he realized, though, that sooner or later he'd be the one who'd have to tell her.

* * *

 **Thursday, March 4, 1995, Evening.**

"Hermione, you haven't seen Fleur around, have you?" Jasmine asked as she filled up her plate for dinner.

"No, as a matter of fact, I haven't," Hermione answered, a frown growing on her face. "Not for several days, in fact. You don't suppose something has happened to her, do you?"

"No, I don't believe so," Jasmine answered. She paused for a moment before continuing, "And I have no idea why I think that. For some reason, though, it just feels like the right thing to say. It's like I know it, but I can't figure out how or why."

Hermione cocked her head and said, "I feel the same way, actually. And as odd as it is that you are experiencing that, it's even odder for us both to be. I wonder why that is?"

"I'd like to say that Fleur might know, but even if she were here, she probably wouldn't be allowed to tell us," Jasmine said a little bitterly.

"I know, it does get frustrating," Hermione agreed. "Yet for some reason, now that you mention her, I'm really missing her. I guess I got used to our talks."

"Yeah," Jasmine responded, "I think I might even miss little Gabrielle, despite how clingy she could be."

"Merlin, yes," Hermione said with a smile, "I didn't think she'd ever let go of you. It was like someone hit her with an overpowered sticking charm!" The two witches shared a laugh at the memories of the small veela.

* * *

Albus Dumbledore closely watched the interaction between Miss Potter and Miss Granger at the Gryffindor table during dinner. As far as he could tell, there was no difference as of yet: the two witches were in good spirits and as close as ever. He'd also not heard from any of the castle's portraits or elves about any problems between the two.

It had been two days already since he'd spoken to Severus about the problem, and his Potions professor had assured him the following morning that he'd had an idea that he'd already begun working on. So far, though, nothing at all seemed to have come of it, and while Dumbledore wasn't exactly worried yet, he was starting to grow a bit concerned. The sooner something was done, the better, because the more time that went by without something happening, the more conflicted Dumbledore felt about trying to sow any discord between the two young witches, whether directly or indirectly.

He had never been completely convinced that it was a good idea, but he also couldn't think of a better way of reducing Miss Granger's negative influence on Miss Potter, and that, in turn, seemed like the only way of returning the Girl Who Lived to the right and proper path that she needed to follow in order to secure a peaceful future for all of wizarding Britain. Even though she wasn't aware of that path or that future, Dumbledore certainly was, and it was incumbent upon him to help guide her. After all, if he didn't, then who would?

 _No_ , he concluded yet again, _it really is for the best that this be done, even if it hurts a few in the short term. I just wish that I weren't the one who has to make such decisions._

* * *

 **Friday, March 5, 1995, Morning.**

When Jasmine and Hermione entered the Great Hall for breakfast a little later than usual, all conversations stopped and the entire student body seemed to hold its collective breath in anticipation. The two Gryffindor witches had no idea what was going on, but it was unnerving and creepy to say the least. Once they got to the table to eat, though, and saw the expressions on the faces of Ginny, Ron, and Neville, they knew something was wrong.

"What's going on?" Jasmine asked.

"Here," Ron said, pushing a copy of the _Daily Prophet_ across the table. "You need to read this."

"It's not as bad as it looks at first," Ginny said quickly, "but it's still pretty bad."

Their hearts stopped and all the blood drained from their faces when they read the headline:

 **JASMINE POTTER'S LOVE TRYST WITH MUGGLEBORN!**

 _Heroine and savior of wizarding Britain, Jasmine Potter has been caught engaging in inappropriate behavior unbecoming of any British witch, never mind the Girl Who Lived_ , writes Rita Skeeter. _Perhaps because she didn't receive the proper upbringing which her loving parents would have provided her, she's been led astray by muggleborn Hermione Granger, whose loose morals and muggle attitudes have corrupted our national treasure._

 _A plain but ambitious girl, Miss Granger has developed a unseemly taste for famous witches and wizards. Not content to seduce Viktor Krum, Bulgaria's hero of the recent World Quidditch Cup, she's drawn poor Miss Potter into her sexual shenanigans, and now both witches are reportedly participating in indecent activities with the older Bulgarian wizard._

 _According to some eyewitnesses, she even tried to seduce poor Gilderoy Lockhart while she was only a second-year student, but fortunately he had the strength of character to resist her muggle wiles. Whether his rejection of her casual attitudes towards physical intimacy had anything to do with his being cursed so badly that he's now a permanent resident of St. Mungo's is something the authorities will have to determine._

 _The unscrupulous Miss Granger has had her claws sunk deep into the Girl Who Lived ever since their first year, when she reportedly faked being attacked by an unknown creature in order to trick Miss Potter into saving her, thus ensnaring the poor girl in a relationship that would slowly corrupt her over the years. "Potter trails around behind her in a daze half the time," one anonymous student revealed to me. "It's like she can't do anything without Granger's permission, and usually participation as well. We all wonder what happened to Potter to cause her to not be able to think or act for herself. Granger's done something to her, and I don't think anyone has investigated it yet."_

 _Mr. Krum became entangled in the muggleborn's machinations earlier this year when he arrived to participate in the Triwizard Tournament. After falling for the duplicitous charms of this depraved product of muggle culture, he even invited her to spend time with him at his home in Bulgaria. Miss Potter has presumably been invited as well, allowing Miss Granger to drag both of her victims even deeper into her degenerate web while far from the watchful eyes of Britain's upstanding witches and wizards._

 _"She's incredibly repellent," reported an anonymous female student about Miss Granger, "but she's also quite smart, and I wouldn't be surprised if she were capable of brewing a powerful Love Potion." This reporter was unable to find any evidence that Miss Potter or Mr. Krum had been tested for potions or charms which might have been used to facilitate their corruption at the hands of the muggleborn, and I hope that the allegations will be investigated with all due speed._

 _In the meantime, I am sure that the rest of wizarding Britain will join me in wishing Miss Potter the best in her efforts to avoid being sullied further and to escape the clutches of that deviant muggleborn._

Jasmine and Hermione stared at the paper in mute horror and disbelief. Ginny was right that it could have been worse, but not by much. The story may have failed to out the two of them as a couple, but the headline and half of the article implied it heavily — it was only the presence of Viktor Krum that prevented it.

Right now it seemed that their only hope for not being completely outed was the apparent desire of witches and wizards to not notice or think about the existence of same-sex couples. The two had long lamented the inability of magicals to see what was in front of their faces if it contradicted their comforting beliefs; now, they were utterly dependent upon it.

"Even though she could have said worse," Ginny finally said, not mentioning specifics given where they were, "this will still harm both of your reputations. You, Hermione, will be seen as a scarlet woman who can't be trusted around witches or wizards because you're too muggle in your outlook on relationships and behavior."

"Ugh!" Ron interjected. "Mum is going to go ballistic when she reads this. She's always going on about the importance of purity and avoiding scandalous relationships. She's always reading these wizarding romance books where the woman is swept off her feet by a dashing pureblood hero but saves herself until marriage, and then every time she sleeps with her husband, she has another kid."

"And how do you know what's in those books?" Ginny asked pointedly.

Ron's ears turned bright red as he stammered out a reply. "I, uh, well, I got really bored one summer and, uh, kinda read a couple."

"You and I are going to have to have a long talk," Ginny said with a frown before turning back to the other two. "As I was saying, Jasmine, you will be seen as someone too weak-willed to even be entrusted with the running of your own life, never mind any other responsibilities."

"You'll both be criticized," Neville added, "but Hermione will be the biggest target. Other muggleborn may be targeted as well, given how this article criticizes muggle culture. There will be calls for investigations, for Hermione to be removed from Hogwarts, and maybe even for the two of you to be separated somehow."

Ginny nodded. "People won't want to tolerate the Girl Who Lived being led astray by muggle ideas and attitudes. Even those who aren't openly bigoted against muggles and muggleborn will see this as proof that muggle culture is harmful — that muggles and their ideas should be kept as far away from young, impressionable witches and wizards as possible."

"Even though I was raised as a muggle?" Jasmine asked, finally able to find her voice.

"I don't know how many people actually know that," Ron replied. "The stories about you always said you were brought up in a magical household where you received special training. Even if people understood that the stories were made up, I doubt that they would ever expect someone like you to be raised by muggles." At the look on her face, Ron raised his hands placatingly and said, "Hey, I'm just telling you what people think — I never said they had good reason to think it."

"I will say one thing," Neville said. "This article comes across a lot differently after hearing what Bl… well, what we recently learned about how wizarding Britain treats marriage." Jasmine and Hermione both nodded while Ginny and Ron gave him quizzical looks. "The three of us learned some interesting facts about how sex and marriage are treated in wizarding Britain — facts that kids our age aren't usually told. There's a lot that this article isn't coming right out and saying, but I'll bet the adults are able to see it."

While Neville explained what they'd heard from Blaise, though without revealing his name, Hermione and Jasmine took the time to look around the still-silent Great Hall. They saw a lot of different expressions in the faces of their fellow students. Most were curious. A very few — mainly those who had been joining them for their bi-weekly study group — were sad or sympathetic. At the Slytherin table there were quite a few proud and gleeful faces — and none more so than that of Draco Malfoy, who was prominently displaying his "Potter Stinks" badge.

As usual, there was no reaction from Dumbledore, whose face was unreadable. No one demanded that any of the badges be taken off, much less that the students wearing them be punished. No one stood up to denounce the accusations made against Hermione or even to caution students that they shouldn't believe everything they read in a newspaper. McGonagall looked furious, but they knew that she was in a difficult position, and Jasmine gave her a very fast, very slight smile to indicate that she understood.

Hermione frowned for a moment, reread part of the article, then said, "That's odd."

"What?" Jasmine asked.

"Skeeter mentions me being invited to Bulgaria," Hermione replied.

"So?" Ron asked.

"So," Hermione explained, "He invited me back during the Yule Ball. In fact, he did it while we were walking outside."

"I remember that," Neville interjected. "It was just you two and me with Jasmine. No one was ever close enough to hear anything we said. I didn't even hear him invite you, and I was right there."

"Me, too," Jasmine said, sounding a bit put out to only be hearing about this now.

Hermione waved her hand dismissively and said, "I didn't bother mentioning it because I turned him down, so it wasn't important. But what is important is how she knew. I obviously didn't tell her, and I'm sure Viktor didn't. He doesn't read this paper and isn't very impressed with British wizarding media."

"She must be spying on you somehow," Ginny concluded.

Hermione nodded. "We'll all have to be extra vigilant until we figure out how. Otherwise, who knows what else she might find out." Everyone but Ron immediately knew what she meant and vowed to be even more careful than they had been in the past.

When they filed out of the Great Hall for their History of Magic class, none of them noticed the scowl that grew on Snape's face, nor how the headmaster's expression shifted from impassive to regretful while his shoulders slumped as if a very great weight had been set upon them.

* * *

 **Friday, March 5, 1995, Late Morning.**

Snape strode quickly towards the headmaster's office, hoping that he'd be able to get this meeting over with as soon as possible. He'd had to cancel one class in order to make time for this — the note from Dumbledore made it quite clear that meeting him was a higher priority than everything else — and he didn't want to have to do the same to another class as well.

Fortunately he'd prepared in advance just in case things went pear-shaped, though never in his wildest dreams did he imagine that matters would turn out like this. He really wasn't sure yet whether he should find a way to give Malfoy points or hex the little snot. _I'll probably have to end up doing both_ , Snape thought irritably.

Upon entering the office Snape quickly realized that the situation was rather worse than he originally surmised. Instead of the usual friendly greeting, Dumbledore simply motioned him to sit in one of the chairs. He wasn't even offered a sherbet lemon, which to his recollection was a first. There was certainly no twinkle in Dumbledore's eyes, and the grandfatherly demeanor was completely absent.

The headmaster rose from his seat, picked up his copy of the _Daily Prophet,_ and threw it down on Snape's side of the large desk. "Is this **your** doing?" he asked sternly. "Is this what you had in mind when you told me that you'd take care of it? Did you really feel it necessary to completely ruin one young witch's reputation across all of wizarding Britain and seriously damage the reputation of another?" Dumbledore leaned forward, placing both palms flat on his desk while glaring at Snape as he thundered, "Is this really your idea of a **good plan** , Severus?"

Only the iron self-control Snape had developed over the years kept him from sneering in derision at the old man's hand-wringing, but it was a near thing. "Of course it was necessary," he wanted to say. Or perhaps, "What do you really care about the know-it-all Granger anyway? One form of sacrifice is as good as another. Don't get all high and mighty on me now because it was you who started this."

But no, he couldn't say those things, so instead he equivocated. "I can assure you, Headmaster, that I never planned on anything being published in the _Daily Prophet_ or indeed in any sort of media whatsoever. I never spoke to Rita Skeeter or any other reporter. I never asked for nor sought for anything like this," he gestured at the paper, "to happen." He never said, though, that he wasn't _responsible_ , nor that he didn't have a good idea of who else might be as well.

Dumbledore sat heavily back down in his chair and closed his eyes in obvious relief. "I'm glad to hear that, my boy. I was so very afraid that you were the one who caused this story to be published."

Now that he appeared to no longer be under suspicion, Snape decided to push a little. "Is it ultimately that much of a problem, though?"

"What do you mean?" Dumbledore asked, opening his eyes and looking carefully at his Potions professor.

"I realize that this is much more than you intended," Snape quickly continued, "but what if it accomplishes your goals? Are there negatives that really outweigh the positives?"

"Of course there are negatives." Dumbledore said angrily. "There are obvious and unambiguous negatives for the reputations of those two young witches."

"And if Granger's reputation is damaged for the moment," Snape replied, trying to downplay the consequences as much as possible, "is that really not a price worth paying for the sake of creating some distance between her from Potter?"

"I'm sure she wouldn't think it worth paying," Dumbledore tried to protest as he took of his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose in frustration.

"I doubt she'd consider any price worth paying," Snape pointed out, "but since she is the source of the problem, her opinion really isn't relevant, is it? You didn't ask her opinion before, so why take it into account now? And as a muggleborn, what use is her reputation in the long run? It's not like she'd ever be fully accepted in our society or would be losing out on a successful career."

Dumbledore sighed wearily, not wanting to concede the point and certainly not wanting to be reminded of how bad a muggleborn witch often had it in their society, but he was unable to offer a counterargument. "And what of the tarnished reputation of Miss Potter?" he asked, trying to shift the topic to something easier.

"If she's perceived as being too readily misled for her own good," Snape suggested, "won't it be easier for you to convince others to leave her affairs in your hands? And if Miss Granger is perceived as doing the misleading, won't that make it easier for you to justify separating them, if the article doesn't do it already on its own?"

Dumbledore pondered that for a few moments, then seemed to accept that this turn of events might end up being useful. "Very well," he said, "thank you for seeing me on such short notice. I will have to give some thought to how I might be able to use this article and the ensuing fallout, despite how awful it is."

As the potions professor reached the door, Dumbledore called out, "One more thing, Severus. Please do find out if you can who **is** responsible for this article — the students who were quoted, for example. If nothing else, this sets a dangerous precedent which we will have to nip in the bud."

Snape turned and gave the headmaster a curt nod before leaving. While walking to the dungeons, he entertained himself with the various ways he might be able to punish Draco for putting him in this situation, then the ways he could reward Draco for doing such an effective job at hurting two of the students he despised the most.

Neither Snape nor Dumbledore ever noticed that the portrait of Phineas Nigellus Black wasn't in his frame during that meeting.

* * *

 **Friday, March 5, 1995, Late Afternoon.**

If the stares, whispers, and snickering had been bad after Jasmine's name had come out of the Goblet of Fire, they were downright unbearable in the wake of Rita Skeeter's article. Neither witch could escape it, and both found it difficult to keep going, despite the occasional sympathetic face in the sea of curious hostility. Neville and Ron stayed close, trying to create a buffer between their two friends and the rest of the school, but there was only so much they could do.

The worst, though, naturally arrived with their Potions class with Slytherin. Jasmine and Hermione both knew that at least some of the responsibility for the article rested with the house of snakes. Malfoy and his cronies were looking far too smug to merely be happy at others' misfortune. No, it was the smugness of one whose plan was coming together, so it was entirely expected that the worst whispering and taunting would come from them.

"Hey, Granger," Malfoy said with a smirk as they waited to enter the potions lab. "We were all wondering how you snagged such an important person to be your date for the Yule Ball. I guess we know now. Did you do it with just a love potion, or did you shag him, too?"

While some of the other Slytherins laughed, Pansy Parkinson's voice rang out. "Draco, you know that the love potions would have been enough. She only shagged him because muggles have such low morals — they don't know any better, like common farm animals. They'll shag anything that moves, human or beast."

"That's right, Pansy," Draco replied. "That's why mudbloods don't belong in our world. They corrupt our society, just like the mudblood Granger has corrupted Potter. Not that Potter had far to fall, mind you, but still. It never would have happened if the filth were kept off our streets and out of our schools."

After nearly a day of enduring all of the whispers, neither Jasmine nor Hermione had any patience left. Draco's comments went so far over the line that they were about to break their promise to Sirius in a very dramatic and messy fashion when Neville put a hand on both of their shoulders and squeezed. Hard.

Then Draco decided to poke at the one person keeping him alive. "Hey, Fatbottom," he called out, "do you think that it's because you're a squib that your date tossed you over for the mudblood's toy, or are you simply that boring?"

Fortunately for the blonde Slytherin, Snape opened the door and ushered them all into the lab. Once they were seated, he strode to the front of the class, turned, and said, "Potter! You will sit up here, alone, in front of my desk. It wouldn't do to let you sit next to Granger where she can continue to pervert your morals. It was bad enough when you simply cheated off of her, but I won't be a party to any further descent into muggle wickedness." When Jasmine simply gaped at him, he shouted, "Ten points from Gryffindor, Potter, for failing to follow instructions. Now move!"

While she dragged her cauldron and bookbag up to the isolated table in the front of the room, Snape continued, "And another ten points from Gryffindor from you, Granger, for being such a bad influence on the Girl Who Lived. You need to learn to leave your filthy muggle ways at home with your muggle parents. This is a school for wizardry and witchcraft, not for muggle immorality and deviance."

Both Jasmine's and Hermione's faces were flushed with a combination of embarrassment and anger while most of the rest of the Gryffindor students kept looking at each other in concern. Only Ron and Neville knew enough to completely support the two witches, but they dared not say anything because they knew it would only make things worse. That didn't stop Neville from glaring at Snape the entire time — Jasmine and Hermione had told him about how Snape and Dumbledore had tried legilimency a couple of days ago, and this abuse on top of that made the shy Gryffindor see red.

While everyone worked on their potions, Snape took advantage of the opportunity to quietly berate Jasmine. "Don't let all of this attention from the press go to your head, Potter. You're already arrogant enough as it is. You and your sycophants may believe that the world revolves around you, but it doesn't. Neither you nor your dalliances are really all that important, despite your unjustified press coverage. Sooner or later the reporters will go away, and you'll be left alone to face what a pathetic failure of a witch you really are."

Jasmine tried her best to focus on her ingredient preparation rather than look at the hated Potions professor or think about what he was saying. She knew he was doing what all bullies do, which is to try to provoke a reaction from her and thus feel justified in hurting her more. It was how Vernon acted at home. It was how Dudley acted at school. Hogwarts, she had learned long ago, was no better.

Snape kept his voice low enough that the rest of the class wouldn't hear him, ensuring that it would be his word against Jasmine if she ever complained. "It doesn't matter how many gullible fools praise you for things you aren't responsible for, I'll always see through to the truth about you, Potter. And the truth is that you are just a nasty little girl who thinks that basic morality is beneath her. You haven't been misled by Granger — you're as responsible as she is. You're just as much of an immoral rule-breaker as she is."

Jasmine's entire body was quivering with pent-up fury. Because she kept her head down and her hair was partially obscuring her face, Snape was unable to see the very slight green glow coming from her eyes. Had they been visible, he might have thought twice about continuing to poke at her like he was.

"You're keeping secrets, Potter, I know it. And I know how to get those secrets, too." Jasmine couldn't keep her head from whipping up at that, though she had the presence of mind to quickly close her eyes and look back down again. When he shoved his hand into his robes she feared that he was going to pull his wand and launch an active legilimency attack, something she'd never be able to prevent or even break.

Instead, he pulled out a small vial filled with a clear liquid. "This is veritaserum," Snape explained, continuing to speak softly. "It's an extremely powerful truth serum that's highly regulated by the Ministry; but I brew it myself, and one of these nights, a few drops might wind up in your drink. If that happens, you'll never be able to stop yourself from disclosing every single one of your deepest, darkest secrets in front of the entire school." Snape sneered evilly. "Then we'll find out how much of Skeeter's article is true... and how much that's worse that she missed."

Jasmine's face went white as a sheet as she returned to her potion ingredients. She tried hard to focus on what she was doing, but even on her best days she had trouble with the subject. Without Hermione's help, there was no way her potion would turn out well, even discounting Snape's bullying. In the end, she felt fortunate to have only gotten a P for the day, though that might have partially been because Snape was distracted by the sudden appearance of Durmstrang's Headmaster Karkaroff.

Jasmine didn't know what he wanted to talk to Snape so badly about, and at that point didn't care. All she wanted to do was get out and get back to Gryffindor tower. Neither she nor Hermione bothered going to dinner that evening, even though they knew that their absence might further fuel the gossip mill. All they cared about was holding each other as they wondered at how malicious and hurtful the wizarding world could be.

Jasmine found herself returning to a question that had been coming up more and more over the years: is it even worth it?

* * *

 **Saturday, March 6, 1995, Morning.**

Draco Malfoy was disappointed when he saw Potter and the mudblood come down to breakfast. Their absence from dinner the night before had meant that Skeeter's article was really affecting them badly, he was sure of it; and he had hoped that it would continue to do so today. Not even the tongue-lashing he'd gotten from his head of house last night could do anything to dampen his mood. So what if Snape thought he'd gone too far? From Malfoy's perspective, the outcome had been perfect so far, and he was sure that his father would agree. Eventually, Snape would as well.

Malfoy was so busy gloating to his fellow Slytherins that he didn't notice the owl which Jasmine and Hermione received, but he did notice when they left the Great Hall and made for carriages that would take them to Hogsmeade, so he hurried to follow them. He was determined to gather as much information for his father as he could and wanted to be sure that he could record their every movement while in the village.

Neither Jasmine nor Hermione had any idea that they were being closely watched as they made their way through Hogsmeade, killing time until the appointment which Sirius had requested in his owl letter.


	45. Every Breath You Take

**Recommendation** : This chapter's recommended fic is "The Rebel and The Chosen" by chelseyb. Harry and Tonks meet and become friends, but after a tragedy strikes, their friendship grows into something more. Harry/Tonks.

* * *

 **Chapter 45 - Every Breath You Take**

 **Saturday, March 6, 1995, Morning.**

As Jasmine and Hermione wandered through Hogsmeade, they tried to avoid looking at all the people around them. Judging from the stares and whispers, residents and students alike all seemed to have read Rita Skeeter's article, so as much as the girls wanted to enjoy a relaxing morning window shopping, they couldn't avoid the uglier effects of media attention.

Because they tried so hard to ignore everyone around them, they made it easy for Draco Malfoy to follow them. They didn't notice him glaring at them from across the street as they looked into store windows. They didn't notice him hanging around outside the shop as they purchased especially lurid socks for Dobby. They didn't notice him skulking in a darkened corner of the Three Broomsticks as they tried to enjoy a quiet lunch and butterbeer.

They also didn't notice as they slipped him entirely when it was time to go up into the mountains in order to meet Sirius. In the end, Draco Malfoy was left standing in the middle of Hogsmeade without any idea of where his quarry had gone and wondering how he could spin this failure to make himself look good to his father.

One thing was certain though: from now on, he'd have to be much more careful watching every move that halfblood witch made.

* * *

 **Saturday, March 6, 1995, Afternoon.**

Sirius Black was disillusioned so he could keep an eye on the two young witches as they made their way up the hill towards the cave where they had already met a few times. Once he was confident that they weren't being followed or tracked, he got the bright idea of grabbing them both from behind to prank them.

That was a mistake.

He noticed them cast sidelong glances at each other and wondered again at their apparent powers of silent communication before everything abruptly went black.

When Sirius came back to consciousness, he noticed that he was lying on the floor of the cave, bound in thick magical ropes. He blinked several times to get used to the darkness and only then realized that he had two wands trained on him — and behind the wands were two glaring, angry witches.

Sirius gulped audibly before saying, "Um, hi?"

Jasmine leaned closer and said, "What's Sirius Black's alternate form?"

"Uh, I'm a dog animagus. I look like a large Grimm," Sirius replied quickly.

Jasmine leaned back and shared a look with Hermione. "I guess that's him," the bushy-haired witch said, sounding almost disappointed.

"Does that mean we have to let him go, though?" Jasmine asked, eliciting a very canine-like whimper from Sirius.

"He asked for the meeting, so it's probably important," Hermione replied with a shrug, "And it'll be easier if he's free and sitting."

"Fine," Jasmine said in a long-suffering tone of voice. With a quick _Finite_ , she dispelled the magical ropes, and Sirius was soon sitting, rubbing his arms and legs where the circulation had been cut off.

"What were you thinking, sneaking up on us like that?" Hermione demanded, her hands fisted into her hips.

"At first, I was just trying to make sure you weren't followed and didn't have any new tracking charms placed on you," Sirius explained. "Once that was done, though, I thought I'd surprise you by grabbing you from behind." Sirius had the good sense to look regretful about that decision, especially in the face of the continued glares from the two witches.

"Sirius," Jasmine said sternly, "you do realize, don't you, that we asked for those nasty spells you gave us because people want to attack us? What if we had used one on you before we realized who it was?"

"Don't worry, I won't try it again," he said, putting up his hands in a sign of surrender. "I promise!"

The girls just shook their heads in exasperation, so Sirius hastily cast cushioning charms on some rocks so they could get on with the meeting. "First," he said, "I have here all the notes I could collect on blood tracking charms." He handed over a sheaf of parchment. "There's information on dispelling them as well as my own observations from testing a blood tracking instrument I found in my old family home."

"Thanks, Sirius," Hermione said, eager as always to acquire new knowledge — especially knowledge that might help Jasmine. She knew that she might not be able to solve Jasmine's problem, but she was determined to try her best.

"Second, some good news," he continued. "I'm getting help from portraits of Black family members. Even my mother is helping, and she was an irredeemably horrid person when she was alive. She was the main reason I left home and moved in with your father's parents, Jasmine."

"Why has she changed?" Jasmine asked. "Are you sure she even **has** changed?"

"Actually, in some ways she hasn't changed," Sirius replied. "Many of her opinions are still bigoted and horrible, but the difference is that for some reason, she no longer wants to act on them. I don't know why — maybe something went wrong in the magic when the painting woke up; but while she still thinks that muggleborn are inferior, she doesn't want them killed or forced to be second-class citizens. It's... weird, frankly. It's hard to reconcile the two, never mind reconcile it all with my memories of her when she was alive." Sirius shrugged. "So long as I ignore her occasional epithets, she's OK to be around."

"That does sound odd," Hermione agreed, making a mental note to learn more about magical portraits.

"Anyway, one of the portraits is of a many-times great aunt who was a mind healer, Elladora Black, and she's giving me counseling to help me get over my time in Azkaban."

"That's great, Sirius!" Jasmine exclaimed.

"Yeah, well, I guess I've needed it." Sirius responded, running his hand through his hair and looking a little embarrassed. "My mother actually forced the issue and had Kreacher pour all the alcohol down the drain. I was starting to drink too much, and she recognized that if I continued on that course, I wouldn't be able to help you. And you were the key for her."

"Me?" Jasmine asked, confused.

"I know, I didn't understand it at first either," Sirius said. "but you're named after her favorite aunt, Dorea. There was only a few years age difference between the two of them, and they grew up more like sisters. My mother loved Dorea Black, who married Charlus Potter and became your grandmother."

Hermione looked suddenly thoughtful. "Is Dorea a common name in the wizarding world? Because I meant to tell you," she said, turning to Jasmine, "that I was digging in the footnotes of, uh, **that book** , the one by D. Tempest? And that's apparently what the 'D' stands for."

Sirius shook his head. "No, it's not common — certainly not in my family. There's a tradition for members of my family to be named after stars and constellations, but that's more among the men. Yet it seems to be one reason my mother has focused on you, Jasmine. She regards you as a granddaughter of the House of Black and is determined to see that you get all the help she can organize — and to that end, she's enlisted the aid of all the house's portraits."

"Wow," Hermione said. "What can they do?"

"They all have at least one other frame elsewhere, and sometimes more than one," Sirius explained. "Those frames may be in the Ministry, St. Mungo's, Hogwarts, and even other homes. They are all going to provide whatever knowledge they had in life as well as whatever information they can gather from their other frames."

"Spies!" Hermione said.

"Exactly," Sirius replied, nodding. "And that brings me to my last bit of news, which is both good and bad." He saw the trepidation on their faces so tried not to drag this out. "The good news is that one of the portraits we have on our side is Phineas Nigellus Black, a former—"

"Headmaster of Hogwarts!" Hermione exclaimed. "So we have a spy inside the headmaster's office!"

"You are a quick one," Sirius said, clearly impressed. "All former headmasters are oath-bound to help the current headmaster and keep his secrets. Phineas, though, was a Slytherin and a Black, so he took an altered oath that ensured that his oaths as head of the Black family took precedence over those he took as a headmaster. In short, **we** own him, not Dumbledore."

"And I'm guessing that's where the bad news comes in?" Jasmine asked, worry growing on her face.

"Yep," Sirius said. "Two bits of bad news, in fact. First is that all of the portraits in the castle report to him, and right now, they are watching you. Everything you say, every move, every step... if it happens where a portrait can see you, assume that the headmaster will learn of it. Phineas himself reported back in January about you meeting with the French champion, something he promises he won't do again."

"Eww!" Jasmine said. "That's just... creepy."

"I know!" Hermione agreed. "Wholly aside from how this affects our ability to train and plan, the thought that an old man is watching two young girls so obsessively is... is just... **ick!** "

"But not a surprise, not after what happened to me," Jasmine pointed out with a scowl. Hermione nodded sadly in agreement.

"What happened?" Sirius asked, concerned.

Jasmine sighed. "Both Dumbledore and Snape used legilimency on me earlier this week. Dumbledore was gentle, and once I realized what was going on, I broke eye contact. Snape was…rather less gentle. I already had a headache that had developed after the headmaster's attack, and Snape's just made it worse. For some reason, though, he stumbled backwards after he started and knocked over a cauldron. That put an end to the lesson and we all left."

"It was such an awful violation!" Hermione said angrily as she put a hand on Jasmine's shoulder. "They shouldn't be allowed to do things like that!"

Sirius moved to embrace both witches where they sat. "Technically, they aren't," he said. "It's illegal to perform legilimency on underage witches and wizards without DMLE approval. Unfortunately, proving that it happened is almost impossible." He pulled back a bit and looked at them. "I want you to put extra time into practicing occlumency and legilimency, you hear?" When they both nodded, he stood back up and returned to his cushioned rock.

Sirius shivered at the thought of someone not just invading his goddaughter's mind, but also obsessively watching them via the castle's portraits. If anything, this news made him even more determined to help and protect the two witches. Originally he'd been focused on helping his goddaughter, but upon learning how close Jasmine was to Hermione and how much they relied upon each other, he realized that he'd have to help and support both.

After a few more minutes discussing mental magics, he continued, "The second bit of news is that Phineas recently heard Dumbledore debating with himself about trying to split you two apart, or at least damage your friendship enough so that you don't spend as much time together."

" **What!?** " both witches cried in unison.

Sirius nodded and said, "I'm afraid so. He saw Dumbledore's attempt to interview you about the second task, Jasmine. He said you did a good job, by the way. As you might have guessed, the headmaster wasn't too happy because he didn't get whatever he was fishing for. For some reason, he ended up concluding that you've changed because of Hermione's influence, so he wants to reduce that influence."

Sirius didn't miss either the horrified looks on their faces or the fact that they seemed to almost unconsciously slide closer together. He could imagine having a similar reaction if someone had suggested that the headmaster wanted to wreck his friendship with James.

"Do you… do you…" Hermione was almost in tears as she tried to speak. "Do you think he was responsible for that article in the _Daily Prophet_?"

Sirius shook his head. "I doubt it. Phineas never heard or saw anything like that being planned. What little he did see after the article came out suggested that Dumbledore wasn't happy about it but is prepared to use it anyway if it will help him with his plans."

Both witches showed a bit of relief. The idea of their headmaster libeling the two of them in front of all of wizarding Britain would have been too much for them to bear.

"I'm sorry about that article, by the way," Sirius added. "I was shocked when I saw it, and the portrait of my mother was absolutely livid. If she'd been alive, I'm certain that she'd have tracked Rita Skeeter down and cursed her into next week. Or used unforgivables, perhaps. In fact, I'm not entirely sure that she won't try anyway. She was always a very determined woman, and if anyone's portrait can figure out how to cast a cruciatus, it's hers." This got a weak chuckle from the witches.

"I don't suppose you have any suspects for who might be behind this?" he asked.

"We're pretty sure that Draco Malfoy and a few other Slytherins were involved," Hermione said. "They looked entirely too pleased with themselves when the paper arrived."

Sirius nodded. "That article was definitely something his father might do, so I wouldn't put it past Draco to be involved. Nor Lucius, for that matter. There's also the possibility that whoever got you into this tournament was behind the article as well. The goal of both is to hurt you, after all."

If anything, the girls were even more worried now.

"Getting back to Dumbledore," Sirius cautioned them, "just because he wasn't responsible for _this_ incident doesn't mean he won't be responsible for something _else_. He still wants to separate you two — if this article doesn't accomplish that for him, he'll try to find some way of doing it himself. So watch your backs, and watch each other's backs."

Jasmine and Hermione both nodded before leaning in against each other, the revelations of what the old man wanted having taken a surprising emotional toll on them. The idea that he was constantly watching them, keeping an eye on everything they did, was more than a little disturbing. The fact that he wanted to separate them was simply outrageous. They'd fight to stay together, even if it meant making him as much of an enemy as the Death Eaters were.

* * *

 **Saturday, March 6, 1995, Night.**

Fleur Delacour flopped backwards into her bed, sore and aching all over and absolutely dead tired. It hadn't even been a week since her new life had started, and she wasn't sure she was going to survive it. She never seemed to have a minute to herself anymore. Every day was long, grueling, and tiring, yet ultimately rewarding. Every day, she could easily point to important things she'd learned as well as new physical development.

Not to mention new bruises and sore muscles.

Groaning, she forced herself up out of the bed and towards the shower. Gabrielle was already there, somehow having found the energy more easily than she had, and Fleur welcomed the company. The little things were made easier when shared with someone who understood what it was like to be too tired to pick up a bar of soap or lift a fork to one's mouth.

"I don't know how you do it," Fleur said as Gabrielle made room. "I had a hard enough time during my maturation, and my life was normal back then; yours has not only come early, but it's proceeding much faster than usual. And on top of that, you're going through the same training that has me exhausted every night. Not to mention the lessons which Maman and Adrienne are giving us…."

Her little sister shrugged, and Fleur noted that she wasn't so little anymore. Very soon she'd be nearly as tall as Fleur and every bit as strong. Between her rapid growth and the scarily single-minded way in which she had been approaching her training, Fleur suspected that it wouldn't be long before she wouldn't be able to defeat Gabrielle in a fight.

"I'm not sure I understand it myself," Gabrielle said. "Ever since the second task, though, I've felt like I can't run out of energy. And once I found out about what lies ahead of us... well, I've been really excited about what we're learning and what we're going to be doing. It's all I can think about! I never imagined that I'd get the chance to be trained in combat by veteran Amazzi like Phoebe and Areto."

Humming in pleasure as the hot spray hit her sore back, Fleur wondered if this change in Gabrielle was due to their new bond with the two English witches. Taking the shampoo working it into Gabrielle's hair, she said, "It's nice being with veela again. Even Phoebe and Areto are a delight to be around after spending so much time isolated."

"Somehow I doubt you thought Areto was such a 'delight' as she whacked you on the bum with her sword this morning when you didn't move fast enough!" Gabrielle said with a laugh. "Even if it **was** only the flat side."

Fleur winced at the memory and resisted the urge the rub the bruise she knew must be forming there. "OK, fine, it's not all delightful," she grumbled, "but given the reputation the Amazzi have, I expected them to be a lot more standoffish."

"True," Gabrielle agreed. "I found it stressful enough when it was just the two of us here. I can't imagine how you coped when you were alone."

"You get used to it," Fleur responded as she turned around to let Gabrielle shampoo her hair. "Up to a point, at least. The itching sensations and physical discomfort are easiest to get used to over time. But the overwhelming loneliness of feeling so isolated... I'm not sure I ever really got used to that. There were times when I would have given anything to have been visited by family, even just to sit and chat, and..."

"What is it?" Gabrielle asked when Fleur simply trailed off.

"I'm not sure," Fleur whispered as she turned around to face her sister. "I was just thinking about how much I want to sit and chat again with Jasmine and Hermione, like we did before the second task. They just popped into my head when I mentioned being visited by family."

Gabrielle cocked her head and looked thoughtful for a moment, then nodded. "Now that you mention it, I do think I'm missing them in a way that feels more like family — like how I missed Maman and Grandmere while I was visiting you here last month."

"Even though you barely know them," Fleur pointed out.

"Jasmine saved my life," Gabrielle said with a frown as she turned Fleur back around so she could finish her sister's hair. "Of course I would miss her."

Fleur wasn't so sure, though. Now much more awake, she thought about how the closeness, warmth, and even serenity she normally only felt around certain veela were now also associated with those two English witches. _I'm not sure which is more curious_ , she considered, _that, or the fact that Gabrielle doesn't see anything odd in it. I'm going to have to talk about this with Maman and Adrienne during our next lesson._

* * *

 **Sunday, March 7, 1995, Afternoon.**

As Jasmine and Hermione walked down the corridor, they kept casting surreptitious glances at the paintings along the walls. Both felt a bit unclean at the idea that they were being watched even now, so kept up a quick pace in order to get behind closed doors for some privacy.

When Professor McGonagall bid them enter, Hermione said in a loud voice, "We're here for our Transfiguration tutoring, Professor." When the door closed behind them, both slumped against it, mentally exhausted from constantly worrying about who or what was watching them and what might be reported.

Minerva raised a questioning eyebrow at that. "I'm sorry, Professor," Hermione said, "but we learned that the Headmaster is using the portraits to spy on everything we do, then report back to him if we do anything he might be interested in."

Jasmine shuddered and said, "It's insanely creepy, and I want to take a shower every time I think about it."

Minerva pursed her lips. "Are you absolutely certain of this?"

"Yes, we are." Hermione answered. "I don't think we should reveal our source, at least not without permission; but I think we can say that they are not only reliable, but very close to the Headmaster as well."

Their professor nodded. "Very well, I understand the need to keep that sort of information quiet. I'm very disappointed to hear about this. I knew that he used the portraits to keep an eye out for trouble and fully support that, but targeting students for constant monitoring without a very, very good reason is disturbing."

"Actually, that's not the only bad news," Jasmine said with a weary sigh as she and Hermione made their way over to their usual seats where the tea had been laid out.

"Oh?" Minerva asked, not entirely sure she wanted to hear what else might be going on.

"During my meeting with Dumbledore, he tried to use legilimency," Jasmine said. "Then in Potions later that day, Snape did the same thing — and he was far less gentle about it." Jasmine sighed. "The headache they gave me eventually went away, but I still feel… violated. Dirty, even. Like I can't get clean. The very idea of having them traipsing around in the private areas of my mind is so disturbing. I can't stop thinking about it, but thinking about it makes me feel worse!" Her voice broke with this last.

Minerva closed her eyes in an effort to calm herself lest she march up to the headmaster's office and demonstrate her prowess at human transfiguration, up close and personal. "I can't believe that man," she muttered darkly. "How is your mental magics training going?" she asked when she opened her eyes again.

"Well enough," Hermione said. "Based on the texts we have, we must be doing reasonably well if Jasmine is already able to detect a slow, careful Legilimency attack from someone as skilled as the Headmaster. We've also sussed out why Snape's assault failed." She and Jasmine had agreed to not mention Sirius, just in case their professor was under any oaths to report such information.

Jasmine actually smiled at this point. "At the time, he'd been insulting me non-stop for several minutes, and I was already furious because of what had happened with Dumbledore. I had been imagining creative ways of him dying when I looked into his eyes. That's apparently what he would have seen first, and it upset him so much that he stumbled backwards into a cauldron."

"According to what we've read, some Occlumency masters use a similar technique," Hermione added. "Instead of simply blocking legilimency, they throw up false memories to fool people or painful ones to drive them out." She looked over at her girlfriend with a proud expression on her face. "Jasmine managed something like that without even trying!"

Minerva smiled, apparently pleased that at least one of those two had gotten their comeuppance.

"And that's not everything, I'm afraid," Jasmine said, causing their professor to lose her smile. "According to our source, the Headmaster thinks that my behavior and attitude have changed in a bad way, and that Hermione's influence must be the reason, so that influence must be reduced or removed."

"In other words," Hermione continued, "he wants to drive enough of a wedge between us that we won't be as close anymore."

Realizing at this point at they had been so engrossed in the conversation that they had completely forgotten the tea, the two younger witches set about applying warming charms and serving; consequently they failed to notice how deeply shocked Minerva was at this latest revelation, or how much she struggled to maintain a calm facade.

"Was he..." Minerva swallowed thickly before continuing. "Was he responsible for that awful article in the _Daily Prophet_?"

"Not as far as we know," Jasmine answered as she blew on her tea. "We were told he was pretty unhappy about it, actually."

"Not that that will prevent him from trying to use it anyway," Hermione added with a scowl. "But since there's no way that article will pull us apart, we can be sure that he'll try something of his own sooner or later."

Minerva nodded, trying to get herself collected again so she could have a proper conversation. _Merlin's Beard!_ she thought as she played for time by slowly preparing her own tea. _Albus has no idea what he might be in for if he tries to seriously interfere with their relationship. Yet at the same time, I can't actually tell him what's going on — and even if I could, I'm not sure I'd be able to take the risk._

"I was hoping to talk to you two about that article," Minerva started off. "I'm sorry that there was no time to do so sooner."

"That's alright," Hermione responded. "We were horrified at first, but we calmed down a little when we realized that it wasn't outing us and our actual relationship."

Jasmine nodded in agreement. "That headline and some of what the article said really made it look like Skeeter had discovered the truth. Instead, it was just a pack of lies."

"The lies are so obvious that we're not taking it seriously," Hermione said, "though people's reactions hurt at first. Now, we're mostly just disappointed that so many others in the school seem to be taking the lies seriously."

"Students here won't be the only ones," Minerva pointed out. "Wizards and witches all over Britain will believe what Skeeter wrote and will think very poorly of the two of you as a consequence. You'll need to be careful from here on out because more people will be watching you closely, looking for evidence of Skeeter's claims."

"Great," Jasmine said sourly. "More people watching our every move. That's all we need."

"The one thing we are taking seriously is how she got any of her information," Hermione said. "First is whoever is quoted in the article. We're sure it was Malfoy and some of his cronies. Second is how she knew Viktor had invited me to Bulgaria."

"That was actually true?" Minerva asked in surprise.

"Yes," Hermione replied, "but he did it when Jasmine and Neville were the only people anywhere close to us, and even they didn't hear him say it. So how did she find out? It's worrisome."

Minerva nodded in agreement. "It is indeed. You can be sure that I'll keep an eye out for her. I was going to do so anyway, but now it's even more imperative, I think."

They continued to discuss the article, people's reactions, and the aftermath of the second task for more than an hour. Minerva found out that they had discussed it with Viktor, who was very upset and had contacted the owners of his Quidditch team to see if they could do anything legally. He wasn't too optimistic, though, since the article didn't appear in a Bulgarian newspaper, and British laws didn't offer many protections against false reporting.

Once the two younger witches were getting ready to leave, Hermione remembered to ask, "Professor, could you show me how to do the copying spell you used on the parchment where I listed all of the suspicious behavior of the Headmaster?"

"Certainly," she responded. "What do you need it for?"

"I got some muggle books from my mother for Jasmine and then lent them to a couple of other girls in Gryffindor," Hermione explained. "Apparently, these books have been making the rounds through all four houses, and other witches are interested in reading more. I've written my mum about it and asked her to send new copies so I can duplicate them for all the witches who want them."

"Very interesting — ten points to Gryffindor for furthering inter-house cooperation," Minerva said with a hint of a smile. "I can teach you the spell, but if you expect to make a lot of copies, I can also help you more directly. Once you have the books, why don't you come here one evening and we'll do them all together. That way I can supervise and help ensure that you produce good-quality copies."

"That would be great!" Hermione said, looking forward to the chance to work on a project with her favorite professor. In reality, Minerva would end up learning far more than Hermione.

* * *

 **Sunday, March 7, 1995, Night.**

Albus Dumbledore frowned into his tea as he listened to the report from the portrait of Edessa Skanderberg, a headmistress from the 16th century. "Are you sure about this, Edessa?" he asked as he took another sip of tea.

"Absolutely, Headmaster," the portrait responded. "Today wasn't the first time I witnessed it from my other frame near the Transfiguration corridor. It was only today, though, that I remembered it happening a couple of other times in the past. I didn't think anything of it then, but since you called for a closer watch to be kept on the Potter girl, well… I thought you should know."

Dumbledore nodded and said, "Thank you, Edessa — I appreciate your vigilance on this matter. Please keep me informed if it continues to happen. And let the other portraits in that area know that I want a special watch to be made for such behavior as well."

After Edessa left to deliver the message, Dumbledore set down his tea cup and stood up so he could walk over to his office window and look down at the darkened Hogwarts grounds. _So, Miss Potter and Miss Granger have met with Minerva in her office on several recent Sundays_ , Dumbledore mused to himself. _She can't be giving Miss Potter any direct help for the tournament — the magic of the Triwizard Cup prevents it. But she may have found a way to provide indirect help, as I'm sure Pomona is doing for Mr. Diggory._

He smiled at this, pleased with both her ingenuity and the prospect of the Girl Who Lived learning more magic. _I'm glad to see that she's finally reaching out, seeking knowledge and training on her own rather than just expecting to have it all spoon-fed to her. That bodes well for our society's future. I'd feel more comfortable if I could monitor what she is learning, though. Minerva is trustworthy, but still…._ As he considered the ramifications, doubt began to niggle at the back of his mind. _What if it's something else? What else might be going on?_

Not for the first time, he lamented the fact that Minerva had refused to allow any of the moving portraits in either her office or in her private rooms. He still remembered how vehement her refusal had been, complaining about being watched all the time.

Ignorance of what was going on around him was not a condition which Albus Dumbledore bore easily, especially when it involved events in his own castle. Moreover, this wasn't the first situation where he was being kept in the dark about something involving Miss Potter. Dumbledore believed in coincidences, but he didn't trust them, and he didn't trust that there wasn't something important behind all of those situations.

He just needed to find a way to get more information, then he could start making better plans… plans that would, hopefully, induce some separation between Miss Potter and Miss Granger.

* * *

All the while, the headmaster was being closely observed by the portrait of Phineas Black, who was having more and more difficulty maintaining his impassive expression. He'd always been a detractor of the sorts of policies which Dumbledore favored, both those in the school and in the Wizengamot. As a Slytherin and member of the Black family, his values, ideals, and way of looking at the world were all very different from those of the current headmaster. It was only natural that they would disagree, and that Phineas' portrait would be inclined to recommend changes.

Now that his oath to the Black family had been called in, though, other aspects of his personality were coming to the fore. As a consequence, he was starting to edge away from a simple difference of opinion with Dumbledore towards outright hostility, something that wouldn't normally be possible for any portrait of a former headmaster. He realized he'd have to work hard to avoid giving any indication of his changed allegiance — his ability to watch everything the headmaster did meant that his worth as a spy was incalculable, and he intended to keep doing it for as long as he could.

* * *

Fred and George looked around the abandoned classroom being used by Jasmine Potter and her friends. They had invested a bit of time and effort into this, hoping to discover something interesting or fun, and were disappointed that thus far nothing had happened. The recent _Daily Prophet_ article only fueled their interest: they didn't actually believe it, but they suspected that something interesting was probably going on, otherwise there wouldn't have been any starting point for the article to have been built upon.

"Everything looks the same, dear brother," one of them said, and his twin nodded in agreement.

"Our monitoring and listening charms are still in place, though they could stand to be refreshed," the second noted as he got to work on them. Once he was done, he cast a few more detection spells around the place, just to be sure they hadn't missed anything.

"Any idea why they haven't been using this room?" the first twin asked.

"If they are using this to train and learn for the tournament, then maybe it's because there is still lots of time until the final task," the second twin responded. "When we first found out about this place, it was just after the second task."

"Possible, but then that would be boring," the first twin noted. "All this time and effort to listen to our little bookworm recite spells for the Girl Who Lived to practice would be a bit of a waste. And why would they work so hard to protect the room from eavesdroppers like us if that's all they were doing?"

"Indeed," his brother responded, then pointed out, "We also haven't seen the French champion around in a while."

"True, brother," the first twin agreed. "Not since the last time they were all in here, in fact, and we couldn't get our listening charms past whatever protections were on the door."

"So maybe it's her absence that's the reason why they haven't been back?" the second twin proposed.

"Also possible, as well as potentially more interesting," the first twin responded.

They vowed to keep watching for the French veela, keep an eye on the room, and not let the younger witches out of their sight, at least as much as was possible. They were determined to get to the bottom of this mystery, one way or another.


	46. This One's for the Girls

**A/N:** And the roller coaster reaches the crest of the first drop...

 **Recommendation:** This chapter's recommended fic is "What Witches Really Want" by Almost Anonymous. This is a short, funny story in which several witches discover that Harry can give them **exactly** what they want most in life. Is this good news or bad news for him? It's definitely something Voldemort knows nothing about.

* * *

 **Chapter 46 - This One's for the Girls**

 **Monday, March 8, 1995, Morning.**

While Jasmine and Hermione were eating breakfast with their friends, Neville pointed out Hedwig entering the Great Hall with a small package dangling from her feet. "Oh," Hermione said excitedly, "That must be the books I asked my mother to send!" Once she had divested Hedwig of her burden and had plied her with plenty of bacon, she went to put the self-shrinking box in her bookbag when another owl landed in front of her.

"What's that one about?" Ginny asked.

"I don't know," Hermione responded as four more owls of different sorts landed around her. She removed their letters as quickly as she could, but more owls kept arriving, and by the time they were all done she had around two dozen letters. "I wonder what all this is?" she asked aloud as she opened the first letter.

"What?" she exclaimed. "You've got to be... that's just... oh! The nerve of some people!"

"What's wrong?" Jasmine asked worriedly.

"This is what's wrong," Hermione said as she threw the letter down in front of Jasmine and proceeded to open another. Instead of the expected writing, Jasmine found a message created from mismatched letters that had been individually cut from the _Daily Prophet:_

 _yoU wiCKed, deGenERate litTLe muDbloOD. hoW daRE yOu corRUpt thE giRl WHo liVed With yOur mUGgle Ways! Go baCk To youR deVIant mUggle fAMily aNd leAve DeCent, uPstaNding WIzards aLone!_

As Neville and Ginny tried to read the note upsidedown from across the table, Hermione kept muttering about the other letters she received. "This one says basically the same thing... here's one that calls me a muggle whore... this person hopes a dragon burns me alive... oh, lovely, this witch is asking if I'm willing to share! Oh, the nerve of some people!"

It wasn't long before Draco Malfoy sauntered up behind them, reveling in the hate mail he had hoped would be the result of Skeeter's article. No one there except Jasmine noticed that there was something wrong with the last letter Hermione was opening — Malfoy was too focused on his gloating, Neville and Ginny were still trying to read the first letter, and Hermione was too annoyed to notice anything at all.

Whether it was her seeker reflexes or something else, Jasmine saw that the letter Hermione was holding had started quivering slightly. Just as it popped up in the air and out of her hands, Jasmine grabbed her bushy-haired girlfriend around her waist and pulled her backwards, sending them both crashing down to the floor in front of Malfoy.

The blond Slytherin normally would have found that funny and probably would have come up with some cutting remark about how they belonged at his feet like that, had he not been screaming in agony and trying to claw his own eyes out. Just as Jasmine had grabbed and pulled on Hermione, the envelope exploded outward, spewing some sort of toxic substance in the direction of the recipient.

Because of Jasmine's quick thinking, Hermione only got caught a bit around her hands, which had been flailing as she unexpectedly tumbled backwards to the floor. This left Malfoy in the direct line of fire. He caught most of the blast in his face, with some going into his open mouth; Crabbe and Goyle, occupying their usual positions to either side of Malfoy, also caught a bit.

As Jasmine stood, Malfoy dropped to the ground, still screaming and clawing at his eyes. Not knowing what else to do, she pulled her wand and stunned him, silencing his screams. "Ginny!" she barked, "You help Hermione. Ron and Neville, grab the bookends." She then levitated Malfoy's body, which still seemed to be twitching in pain despite the fact that he was unconscious, and started to move away. "We need to get everyone to the hospital wing!" She would have much rather helped Hermione herself and left Malfoy to his own devices, but since she was the one who had stunned him, she felt a bit responsible for ensuring that he got medical help.

They didn't even get halfway to the doors of the Great Hall before they heard a shout from the direction of the head table. "Potter! Stop what you're doing! One hundred points from Gryffindor for attacking a student!" Not in any mood to play nice, Jasmine immediately cancelled the levitation spell, letting Malfoy drop to the floor with a sickening crunch. Several of the students watching winced at the sound.

"Potter! What do you think you're doing!" Snape shouted as he caught up to them. "Another fifty points for attacking a student a second time!"

"Whatever do you mean, Professor?" she asked in an innocent voice that still managed to convey an undercurrent of contempt.

"You deliberately dropped him to the ground!" Snape fumed.

"Of course I did," she responded. "You told me to."

"Fifty points from Gryffindor for lying!" Snape said triumphantly. "I told you no such thing. I told you to stop what you were doing!"

"Exactly," Jasmine said with a sickly-sweet smile. "And I was doing two things: walking and levitating Malfoy. I immediately stopped both, following your instructions to the letter."

"That's not what I meant and you know it," Snape growled out.

"I'm sorry, Professor, but it's what you said, and I always get punished by you if I don't follow your orders precisely."

"Another twenty points from Gryffindor for your cheek, Potter," Snape hissed, the fury in his eyes only growing. "Now tell me why you attacked Mr. Malfoy so I can write it out properly on your expulsion report."

"She didn't attack Malfoy!" Neville protested angrily. "Malfoy was hurt by something in a letter sent to Hermione, so Jasmine stunned him to stop his pain."

"I never saw any of that," Snape said with a sneer, "so for now the point deductions stand, and I still intend to see Potter expelled. Let's get Mr. Malfoy to the hospital wing to get him treated."

"Funny," Jasmine muttered under her breath, "we'd be halfway there if you hadn't stopped us."

* * *

 **Monday, March 8, 1995, Late Morning.**

When Albus Dumbledore arrived in the hospital wing, the others already present were separated into several distinct groups. Mr. Crabbe and Mr. Goyle were sitting side-by-side on a bed, apparently waiting to be released. Mr. Malfoy was lying unconscious in his own bed with Severus Snape standing next to him, looking angrier than Dumbledore had ever seen the man. On the other side of the wing Miss Granger was lying in a bed being treated by Madam Pomfrey while Miss Potter and Minerva McGonagall waited. A little ways off, Mr. Longbottom, Miss Weasley, and Mr. Weasley watched everyone else.

He hated it when students entrusted into his care were hurt, but he needed to focus first on finding out what happened. As was Dumbledore's habit, he started out with Snape to get his version of events. Given the extensive bias against Slytherins which everyone else had, he found that Snape's reports provided necessary balance. He didn't want Slytherin students to believe that everyone would prejudge them or refuse to give them an opportunity to be forgiven for their mistakes.

Once he learned what happened from Snape, he approached the others rather slowly, already considering his options in this situation. "Miss Potter," he said carefully, "I've been informed that you attacked Mr. Malfoy. Is that true?"

"No sir," she said cooly, refusing to look the headmaster in the eyes. "I stunned him to stop him from screaming in pain. I thought I was helping him, but if that's what Professor Snape calls an attack, then I promise that the next time I see a Slytherin in distress, I'll ignore them and keep walking."

Dumbledore stiffened slightly at hearing that, but before he could respond, Madam Pomfrey snapped, "Don't you criticize her, Albus — she did the right thing. I've already told Severus this, and I'm going to tear strips off his hide for ignoring my statements when he talked to you." Because he was behind them, they didn't notice Snape sneer.

"Four students were hit with undiluted bubotuber pus," the Healer continued, "with Mr. Malfoy having been hit the worst — right in the face, including his eyes, mouth, and throat. The pain must have been excruciating. Stunning was the only thing that could be done just then. I'd have done it too, had I been there. He'll be here for at least a week while I try to regrow his eyes and tongue, and it will be another week before his voice is completely right again."

Dumbledore nodded. "I will of course restore all of the deducted points, then," he said, trying to appear conciliatory. _If there's one thing that I have always been impressed by with Miss Potter, it's been her selfless, generous character_ , he thought. _It would be a tragedy if she lost that because she started being punished for helping others — and someone like Draco Malfoy, no less!_ "In fact," he continued, "I award Gryffindor fifty points for helping a fellow student." Snape's expression only darkened further.

"And I'll be having a talk with Severus about jumping to conclusions before all of the facts are in," Professor McGonagall said, her eyes smoldering. "His quick threats to expel Miss Potter were completely inappropriate." Dumbledore had to look away when he saw her. Normally he tried to protect Snape from his occasional overzealousness, but this time he'd gone too far, too publicly. "You're quite right to do so, Professor McGonagall," Dumbledore said, surprising everyone — including Snape, who looked very unhappy when Dumbledore fixed him with a stern look.

"Do we know why these students were attacked with bubotuber pus?" he asked. "And by whom?"

"I received a bunch of hate mail," Hermione said. "It was all because of that horrid article in the _Daily Prophet_. I didn't even realize that one letter was boobytrapped, but Jasmine noticed something and pulled me out of the way. Malfoy was behind me, so got hit instead." Hermione looked at Jasmine and smiled when she said this, causing Jasmine to blush slightly and stare down at her feet.

 _Oh, dear_ , Dumbledore thought. _It seems that the hate mail from the article is actually pushing them closer together, if that's even possible. It's certainly not pulling them apart!_

"Perhaps if Malfoy didn't make a habit of coming to our table to insult us, this wouldn't have happened to him?" Jasmine pointed out. "It's his own fault he was in the wrong place at the wrong time. It's a shame he was never taught that such behavior is unacceptable."

Dumbledore shifted uncomfortably before clearing his throat and saying, "Yes, ah, it seems, Miss Granger, that you are in some danger — and unfortunately others are in danger from being close to you. Perhaps it would be in everyone's best interests if you were to take a leave of absence from school for a little while. Just until we sort this out, of course. It would help ensure the safety of the other students, which I'm sure is important to you."

A cacophony of outraged protest suddenly erupted from the witches around him.

"Albus! You canna seriously be thinking—

"Never in all my life—"

"Are you out of your freaking mind?"

Only Snape seemed pleased, but he was smart enough to not draw attention to himself just then.

Dumbledore raised his hands to get everyone to quiet down. "I'm only thinking of the welfare of the student body as a whole," he tried to argue, but McGonagall shut him down quickly.

"Be that as it may, Headmaster, such a drastic step is hardly necessary," she said with a voice that betrayed just how angry she was. "There are many things we can do, such as screen the mail or even block it entirely. To deprive a young witch of her education when she's done nothing wrong is unconscionable!"

"I hope you know that I'd never deprive her of her education," Dumbledore protested feebly. "Of course she'd receive her schoolwork, and the professors would give her grades. Most classes can be done this way for a little while."

"And it's still unnecessary," McGonagall insisted. "You should be focused on catching and stopping the perpetrators, not punishing their victim."

"It's hardly a punishment..." Dumbledore tried to say before he was interrupted by Jasmine Potter.

"I'll go with her if she's sent away," came the young witch's declaration.

"What?" Dumbledore asked as he turned sharply towards her. "Why would you do that?"

"I was attacked in the same article," Jasmine pointed out. "I may not have gotten hate mail today, but it could be coming. If Hermione is endangering the school, so am I. That means I need to go with her."

McGonagall's lips twitched in something that could have been a smile.

"We don't know that you'll be targeted," Dumbledore said, not sure how his plan got turned around like this. _This is the perfect opportunity to remove Miss Granger's influence safely,_ he thought irritably. _Why are they making things so difficult?_

"True," Jasmine admitted, "but it's a reasonable conclusion, and we don't want anyone else to get harmed like Draco was, now do we?" It was a politely worded question, but there was no politeness or warmth in her eyes.

"I'm sure that won't be, ah, necessary," Dumbledore stammered. "I have, however, received many owls calling for an investigation and even the removal of Miss Granger."

"And I expect you to shut those complaints down," McGonagall said forcefully. "They have no right to make such demands in the absence of any hard evidence — and an article written by an unreliable scandalmonger hardly qualifies!"

"I'll be happy to perform tests on both Miss Potter and Mr. Krum to verify that neither are suffering from any potions or compulsions," Madam Pomphrey added. "It wouldn't be any trouble at all."

Dumbledore sighed in defeat. "Maybe Professor McGonagall is right. Let's try less drastic measures first and see how they do." Turning to the young witch still lying in the hospital bed, he added sincerely, "I hope you have a speedy recovery, Miss Granger. We all know that you didn't deserve to be subjected to any of this."

He then strode out of the hospital wing, eager to avoid making things worse for himself. Snape stayed and scowled at everyone while Madam Pomfrey finished working on Hermione.

Fortunately only a few droplets of the bubotuber pus had sprayed on Hermione's fingers, so while they would have to be bandaged, it would only stay that way for a few days. Jasmine was already thinking about what kinds of things she could do to help her girlfriend, unspeakably happy that she hadn't been injured like Malfoy had been.

* * *

 **Monday, March 8, 1995, Night.**

"My Lord," Lucius said as he entered the bedroom where the Dark Lord's bassinet was kept. He bowed low and waited until he was given leave to speak.

"What is it, Lucius?" he said dangerously. "Why do you disturb Us so late?"

"I just received a late owl from my wife, who received an important notification earlier today from Hogwarts," Lucius answered, sweating in fear at how his master might react. "It seems that my son was involved in a serious accident and will be in the hospital wing for more than a week. He will be unable to provide us with any more information or facilitate kidnapping the Potter girl.

"Dammit!" the baby thing cried out in its high-pitched, sibilant voice. "What happened to him?

Lucius recounted the circumstances Narcissa had given him, concluding, "My son was behind the mudblood when she opened it. She managed to duck in time, but he caught the blast in his face and is having his eyes regrown."

 _"_ _ **Crucio!**_ _"_ the tiny Dark Lord said as he cursed Lucius for having a stupid son. "You're lucky that he was so observant before that he was able to provide Us with a great deal of information already. Now we will have to task Our spy to do the deed, even if it means that he might not be able to return."

"My... my Lord," Lucius struggled to get up from the floor. "I... I'm sorr..."

"Never mind, Lucius," his master said. "Get out of Our sight while you still can. We must think about this development and consider alternative plans. Again. Go!"

Lucius crawled out of the room as fast as he could, very glad that he was still alive and mobile. He wished desperately that he could be by his son's side. He wished even more that he could find the person who had sent that letter and hang them by their own entrails while roasting them alive. Instead, he'd settle for writing back to Narcissa and asking her to go to Hogwarts to sit with Draco.

At least, he'd try to do that once his hands stopped shaking enough for him to hold a quill.

* * *

 **Tuesday, March 9, 1995, Evening.**

When Hermione arrived at their study group in the library at the end of her second day of hate mail, Jasmine was carrying her book bag while both she and Neville walked at her sides, acting as bodyguards. Only a few Slytherins had expressed any happiness about what was happening to Hermione, though their celebrations were muted given the horrible injuries suffered by Malfoy.

So while it was unlikely that there would be any problems outside of mail delivery, Hermione's friends weren't taking any chances — and she wasn't complaining. Although she generally preferred to do things for herself, she couldn't deny that it made her feel good that her friends were so protective. She was especially enjoying Jasmine's attentiveness, and she could only imagine how much more attentive her girlfriend would be if they could be open about their relationship. What Jasmine was able to do still managed to give her warm and fuzzy feelings, at least.

Everyone at the study group meeting was extremely supportive of both girls. They all wanted to see Hermione's fingers and expressed sympathy for her, since she couldn't use her fingers very well and had to rely on Jasmine not just for note-taking but also at meals. The note-taking was the worst, in Hermione's opinion, because she could barely read Jasmine's chicken scratch even on the best of days. Fortunately she could at least use her hands well enough to cast most spells, even if it required a slightly awkward grip.

Not a single one of them believed the story in the _Daily Prophet,_ and the three Slytherin members were especially vociferous in their denunciation of Malfoy. They hadn't heard him actually admit to being behind it, but what they did hear him say made it pretty clear what had happened. Even worse, Malfoy had implied more than once that Snape not only had prior knowledge of the article, but had actually approved of it.

"Although we can't trust Malfoy to have been honest about that," Hermione noted, "it would help explain why Snape was so incensed when he was injured — it was a plan he approved of that led to his student being badly hurt. The fact that it was Malfoy's own actions that were the cause probably never entered his mind."

Once they were done with their assignments, Jasmine pulled out the one thing delivered by mail that week that Hermione had been happy about: the books from her mother.

"I still need to create copies of these," Hermione explained, "and that will be tomorrow night, but I wanted to give you all a sneak preview because my mother included some extra books."

"What sorts of books?" Padma asked excitedly.

"When I asked her for new copies of the books she had sent earlier," Hermione replied, "I told her a little bit about why they were popular. So she took it on herself to get a few more that had related information and which she thought young witches might find useful." By this point Jasmine had pulled them all out, so Hermione proceeded to read the titles as she handed them out for everyone to look at. "A couple of these books are pretty famous in the muggle world, for example: _The Feminine Mystique_ by Betty Friedan, _The Second Sex_ by Simone de Beauvoir, and _The Beauty Myth_ by Naomi Wolf."

None of the magically-raised students knew what to make of such titles, but as they read the descriptions on the backs they grew increasingly interested in the ideas, arguments, and information that the books contained.

"You said you'll be able to get all of these copied tomorrow?" Susan asked.

"That's the plan," Hermione responded, "though we have no idea how we'll go about distributing them."

"Why don't you leave that to us?" Daphne said quickly. "You've got a lot of other things to do, and we have here representatives of each of the four houses. Padma can go through her sister, thus relieving you of having to deal with Gryffindor, too."

"Are you sure?" Jasmine asked. "We don't want to put you to a lot of work."

"Oh, it's no trouble, is it?" Daphne asked the others, looking around to see if they had any objections. When they all agreed, Daphne continued, "It really would be easier for us to handle it. In fact, we can get started tonight and tomorrow night by asking around and seeing who will want the books. Then you give us the books on Thursday, and by Friday everyone who wants a copy will have them."

"And if we don't have enough," Hannah added, "we can let you know, so you can make more copies by next Tuesday."

"Well, if you're all sure," Hermione said slowly. When everyone nodded emphatically, she continued, "Thanks, I appreciate that. It was going to be tough even when I had full use of my hands."

The other girls were very reluctant to part with the books that Hermione had showed them, but knowing that they'd be getting their own copies in just two days made it a little more bearable. They also looked forward to telling their friends about what was coming, and then getting to serve as the source of these interesting and, in some ways, almost scandalous books.

* * *

 **Wednesday, March 10, 1995, Evening.**

When Jasmine and Hermione entered Professor McGonagall's office to work on copying all of the books, it had been after three days of hate mail — three days without any letup. Fortunately, there hadn't been anything dangerous since that first day because Professor Dumbledore had adjusted the wards to block out dangerous mail. The reaction of everyone who heard that was to ask why it hadn't been done before. Thus far, the Headmaster had refrained from answering.

Minerva had already cleared off a table for them to use, so Jasmine went directly there with Hermione's bag and laid out the books. In addition to what Mrs. Granger had just sent, Jasmine included the copy of _What's Happening to My Body? Book for Girls_ which she'd received earlier, guessing that the information in there might be helpful to the other witches as well. The Transfiguration professor took a minute to look over the books as her students watched, and she was surprised at what she found. "These sorts of books are common in the muggle world?" she asked.

"Well, they're among the most highly regarded in their subject area, so in that sense they're beyond the ordinary," Hermione replied. "They are, however, easy to find and buy, and there are plenty of other books with similar ideas and arguments, so yes, they're fairly common. That's not to say that there aren't still plenty of people out there who disagree with these ideas, but it's a lot better than it was fifty or even twenty years ago."

Watching her linger over some of the books, Jasmine added, "We can be sure to create copies for you as well, if you'd like." Their professor smiled and thanked them, looking forward to reading some of this material.

"To start off, let's practice the spell," Minerva announced. "It's a charm, but I doubt Professor Flitwick will complain about me intruding on his subject. The incantation is _Gemino,_ and the wand movement goes like this..." After showing them a few times and letting them practice on some sample objects, they prepared to test it on the books.

"How long will the copy last for?" Hermione asked.

"It depends on the skill and the power of the caster," Minerva answered, "which means that yours should last for a while. The copies will, however, degrade over time. After having seen what you can do while practicing the charm, I estimate that you'll be able to produce copies of books that will remain in good condition for five years or so and then in usable condition for perhaps another five years. Beyond that, people will need to figure out how to buy their own originals."

"That's good to know," Jasmine said, "We'll have to make sure people understand this in case they like the books enough to want permanent copies."

Casting the charm on books was trickier than on other objects because books were so much more complex. In order to cast it successfully, the caster had to have a good idea of what the book was like — though fortunately it wasn't necessary to have read it, much less memorized it. Once the two younger witches understood what they were doing, Jasmine and Hermione started casting while Minerva levitated completed books into piles.

Finally, after a couple of hours, they had finished duplication of several hundred copies of each book, making the office look quite a bit more cramped than usual. "Now what?" Hermione asked, annoyed at not having thought of what to do in advance. She had focused too much on learning a new spell and not enough on what to do with their final products.

"Let's ask Dobby," Jasmine suggested. "He's always coming up with stuff we can use."

"Dobby?" asked Minerva.

"Oh, yeah," Jasmine said a bit sheepishly. "Hermione and I each bonded with a house elf to keep them from dying. They are working here at Hogwarts, pretending to be Hogwarts elves, but standing by in case we need them."

Minerva nodded, agreeing that that was a good idea. "But where have I heard the name Dobby before?" she asked.

"Aside from lunch after the second task?" Hermione asked. "Jasmine tricked Mr. Malfoy into freeing him at the end of second year. Dobby used to be the Malfoy family elf, and he was the one who kept trying to 'protect' Jasmine by doing things like sending killer bludgers after her."

"Oh," Minerva said, rolling her eyes. "That elf. I've heard of him from the others. Excitable and a bit mad, isn't he?"

"That's him," Jasmine replied with a smile. "Hey, Dobby," she called out, and less than a second later the house elf arrived in the office with a pop.

"Youse be calling Dobby, Missy Jazzy?" Dobby asked excitedly.

"Yes, Dobby, we have a problem," Jasmine said, and she proceeded to explain how they wanted to give copies of the books to witches in the castle but had no way to move so many books around.

When asked if he could help, he started bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet, "Oh, yes, Dobby be helping!" and suddenly he was gone. A few seconds later, he returned with a tall stack of blue bags. "These be old wizarding bags that be much, much bigger on the inside than the outside."

And that turned out to be the perfect solution. Each bag was filled with one copy of each book, then the bags were tied off and inserted into another bag — one for each of the four houses. Each of those "house" bags was filled with nearly enough sets of books for all of the witches in each house — it was assumed that most, but not all, would end up wanting a set. It was more than was really convenient to haul around, but they'd be rid of them the following evening anyway.

* * *

Once they were back in their dorm and getting ready for bed, Jasmine visited Hermione and sealed the bed curtains around them. "What is it, Jas?" Hermione asked. "I thought we were going to skip practice tonight, what with all the work we put into copying all of those books."

"We are," Jasmine said, "but don't you remember what day this is?"

Hermione frowned. "It's... Wednesday? The tenth? What?"

"It's our three month anniversary, silly!" Jasmine said with a goofy grin before leaning in and giving Hermione a very long, smoldering kiss.

"Our anniversary!" Hermione exclaimed. "I forgot all about it!"

Jasmine shrugged. "We both forgot about our earlier anniversaries, too. We've gotten so busy with so many different projects that it's been hard to remember that sort of thing. I might have forgotten tonight, too, if we had done our usual practice."

"Well," Hermione said archly as she pull Jasmine into an embrace, "we're just going to have to find a way to make up for all those forgotten anniversaries, aren't we?"

* * *

Somewhere in Little Hangleton, Lucius Malfoy screamed...

* * *

 **Thursday, March 11, 1995, Afternoon.**

As Barty Crouch Jr. watched the class of fourth-year students practice for their hex deflection test, he thought about the message he'd received that morning from his master. Something must have gone terribly wrong for such a drastic change in plans, but he dared not ask what it was. All he could do was prepare to snatch the Potter girl in a few days, just before the full moon.

Instead of using the Triwizard Tournament trophy as a portkey, which would leave him at Hogwarts with his cover intact until it was necessary for him to leave, the new plan called for him to personally grab the girl and get out of the school. There was a chance that he'd be able to get away with it and return with no one the wiser, but he couldn't count on it.

It was going to be a dilemma, though. He didn't think it would be difficult to actually get the girl unconscious and out of the castle; no, the dilemma was what to do with the real Mad-Eye Moody, currently locked in one of the compartments of the auror's own trunk. _If I leave him alive_ , he considered, _then I will still be able to use his hair for polyjuice potion if I can return. Except that I probably won't be able to return, in which case leaving him alive means leaving him able to work against my master's plans in the future. So I should kill him — but that definitely eliminates any chance of coming back!_

It was when Barty almost twisted his peg leg, risking a fall, that he remembered that it wasn't necessary to kill Moody in order to prevent him from becoming a problem in the future. _I can leave him alive_ , he concluded, _but not necessarily in one piece, and certainly not happy to have been left alive, if it turns out that I can't return. I just need to look through his books to see what sorts of interesting curses I can use on him. Curses that won't kill, but definitely won't be fun for him. Fun for me, but not for him._

Barty smiled at the thought, then barked out a command for all the students to stop what they were doing and line up for their actual hex deflection test. While that was proceeding, he kept spinning his eye to look at Jasmine Potter. He didn't realize that Hermione Granger had noticed his interest, nor that it bothered her enough to keep her eye on him as well.

* * *

 **Thursday, March 11, 1995, Evening.**

When Jasmine, Hermione, and Neville entered the library for their study group, they noticed that everyone else was already waiting, presumably anxious to get copies of the muggle books which Hermione had procured. Well, everyone except Blaise — as ever, he simply looked bored and disinterested.

When the Gryffindors arrived at the table, they set down four large book bags that were obviously stuffed tight. "Here are the books," Hermione announced with satisfaction, then went on to explain the bag-within-a-bag system they were using.

"And each individual bag has a piece of parchment with spells that can be used to disguise the books to look like a common history textbook," Neville added.

"Yes, that was Neville's contribution," Hermione said. "When he heard that witches felt compelled to keep these books hidden from professors, he tracked down a couple of spells that can be used to make a book look like something else."

Neville tried to shrug off the praise. "I just wanted to help. It's not right that you have to hide these things. I've only glanced at the books, but it's not like they're teaching dark magic or anything."

"Thanks, Neville," Susan said, "that was really thoughtful of you." She gave him a wide, friendly smile that would have caused Ginny to want to leap over the table and claw the buxom Hufflepuff's eyes out if she'd been there to see it.

Everyone oohed and aahed over how much work must have gone into creating so many copies and getting them all organized. "How long will these copies last?" Blaise asked. He seemed to have only casual interest in the contents of the books, but the magic behind the copying had caught his attention.

"According to Professor McGonagall," Jasmine answered, "the books should remain in good condition for about five years and usable for another five or so. If anyone likes the books enough that they'll want them beyond that time frame, they'll need to buy originals in the muggle world."

"Hopefully by that point they won't object to muggle books and ideas too much," Hermione added, causing the Gryffindors to share a grin. While they were doing this, they missed the surprised looks that the other students shot each other.

Jasmine and Hermione had agreed in advance that they wouldn't mention the role their magical power played in creating stable copies. They forgot, however, that they had a Ravenclaw in the group. Padma had researched the most common copying spells and had shared her findings with the others while they were waiting, so they already knew that skill and power were critical in creating stable copies that would last a long time.

They also knew something that the Gryffindors didn't because McGonagall hadn't shared it with them: a copy of something as complex as a book normally only lasted a few months, perhaps a year or two if someone were especially skilled.

The other students took a few minutes to examine the books even more carefully now, noting the quality and how sturdy they felt. None of them would have been able to tell that these were magically-created copies rather than originals. And to have done so many in one night….

"These are amazingly good for copies," Daphne pointed out, a bit in awe at what she was looking at now that she understood it better. If these copies lasted even half as long as Jasmine claimed, it meant that she and Hermione were quite a bit more powerful than anyone else realized.

How powerful, though, was anyone's guess. There was no spell that would give anyone a number or rating to compare against others. The one test that had been created to compare magical power was to cast a high-level spell over and over until you tired out; the wizard or witch who lasted longest was deemed the most powerful. Not only did this ultimately fail because it ended up testing more for endurance than strength, but desperate witches and wizards would cast until they exhausted themselves, even to the point of serious injury, making themselves weaker in the end. It was no wonder that such testing became prohibited.

In recent weeks these students had all been rethinking their past attitudes with regards to their new Gryffindor friends — and they indeed felt confident enough to call them friends now, even the Slytherins, who normally thought in terms of alliances rather than friendships. They sensed that changes might be coming, and that being friends would be beneficial in the long run.

One thing was certain, though: none of them would be underestimating these two Gryffindor witches any time soon.

* * *

Once the study group had broken up, everyone not in Gryffindor met in an empty classroom located near the library.

"OK, what's this all about, Daphne?" Padma demanded as she watched the Slytherin begin pulling out bags of books.

"Start emptying your bags," Daphne said in response. "We need to make changes to the books, and we don't have a lot of time."

Padma shoved her Ravenclaw and Gryffindor bags behind her back and said adamantly, "No, not until you tell me what's going on."

Daphne huffed a little and said, "Fine, have it your way." She pulled out a book from one of the individual bags, opened the front cover, and then started incanting what appeared to be a complex charm of some sort. When she was done, she showed it to the Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaw. Displayed on the inside of the front cover was an image of a badge emblazoned with the words: "Girl Who Lived Tested and Approved!" The others simply gaped until Daphne tapped the badge with her wand and it shifted to read: "I give it an Outstanding! — Jasmine Potter." This sent them all into peals of laughter.

"I remember when she said that!" Susan said when she managed to catch her breath again.

Daphne smiled and replied, "I got the idea from those badges that Malfoy created and altered the original spell to use here. I thought it fitting that something once used to mock her should be used to promote her now."

"But that was only about the other two books, wasn't it?" Hannah asked.

Daphne shrugged. "She helped copy and distribute them all, that's approval enough for me."

"I know I agreed to this plan earlier," Blaise said, "but I'm a bit worried. I don't want to make her angry — I don't think we'd like it when she's angry."

Daphne dismissed his concerns with a wave of her hand. "She won't get angry. A little annoyed that we didn't tell her in advance, sure, but not angry. It's not saying anything that isn't true, and given how popular these books will be, putting her name to them will improve her reputation and social standing. She may not care about being popular, but like I told you before, in the long run it's in her best political and social interests to have a strong foundation of support. Especially among witches. These badges guarantee that witches in this school will know who to thank for what they'll be learning."

"Besides," Tracey added with a grin, "it'll be funny."

Padma cocked her head in thought, then said, "I never thought about it like that. I mean, I'd have agreed that she and Hermione would deserve some recognition for bringing us these books, but I wouldn't have put a political value on it."

Susan nodded as she and Hannah started emptying the Hufflepuff bag. "That's the Slytherin mindset — always thinking in terms of political value and consequences, both short-term and long-term. My auntie often complains about it in the Ministry, but it's hard to avoid in the political arena."

"It's impossible to avoid in Slytherin House," Tracey said. "It's why we appreciate this study group. We learn a lot from students who aren't always thinking in such terms."

"Why Jasmine, though? Why not Hermione — or both of them?" Hannah asked. "I mean, it was Hermione who got the books in the first place."

"Unfortunately," Daphne explained, "as a muggleborn Hermione has a lot less political clout. Even people who distrust or dislike Jasmine have a bit of respect for her because of her name and magical heritage. Her endorsement will do more for the books, and the popularity of the books will do more for her than they would for Hermione. It may not be right, but that's the way things are."

Soon the House bags had been emptied, and Daphne started teaching the others how to do the spell while Tracey and Blaise got to work, having already learned the spell while developing it with Daphne the day before. The spell was complicated in its execution due to the complexity of the final product, but it wasn't that hard to learn, and once they all had it down pat, they all got to work. With six of them casting diligently, they managed to get all of the books modified just in time to make it back to the dorms before curfew.

Distribution started that night and would continue through the next day. Essays, assignments, and studying all took a backseat over the following days, even among the Ravenclaws, as the books' contents were devoured. On Friday and through much of the next week, the professors observed a decline in attentiveness and the quality of in-class work among witches. Only Professor McGonagall had any inkling as to the reason for this — or she would have if she had been paying attention instead of being so focused on her own reading.

Hogwarts' witches did indeed learn very quickly whom they had to thank for all this.


	47. Bad Moon on the Rise

**Recommendation** : This chapter's recommended fic is "A Werewolf and a Veela Walk Into a Pub" by . Harry has been bitten by Lupin and contracts lycanthropy; Hermione discovers that she's been chosen by Apollo to be a veela. Will their new natures help or hinder their relationship? It's not complete yet, but this author does finish their fics. H/Hr.

* * *

 **Chapter 47 - Bad Moon on the Rise**

 **Friday, March 12, 1995, Evening.**

"Thanks again for those books," Ginny said, referring to the bag of muggle books the girls had given her the night before. Since Ginny was a close friend, Jasmine and Hermione had agreed that she should get the books from them personally rather than from Parvati.

"I already started reading... well, all of them, actually," Ginny continued, "I couldn't decide which looked most interesting, so I read the first bit of all of them. I have no idea when I finally got to sleep…." The dark circles under her eyes gave testimony to the fact that she had been up very late indeed.

"You're more than welcome," Hermione said. "I'll pass your thanks along to my mum, too. She was thrilled that so many witches here were interested in the first two books, which was why she sent me more to copy and distribute. I know she'll be excited to learn that even one witch is reading and enjoying them."

"I think she might have been thrilled to have finally been able to help you with something at school," Jasmine pointed out. "She'd have probably helped you with all sorts of things if you'd gone to a muggle school, but with magical schooling there's been nothing she could possibly do except drop you off and pick you up at the train station. Or take you to buy school supplies, but even there she'd mostly just be a chauffeur. Now, though, you've asked her for something that only she could help with."

Hermione looked both surprised and thoughtful, clearly never having considered that possibility.

"I started reading them a bit, too," Neville admitted, though he seemed a little embarrassed. "I didn't stay up late like Ginny, but... some of it is interesting. It's giving me some things to think about."

"That's good, Neville," Hermione said. In the background, Ginny was trying to hide her smile. "Do you plan on sharing the books with the other guys in your dorm?"

Neville snorted. "I don't think any of them would be the least bit interested."

"This morning Parvati tried to give me a bag too," Ginny added after a moment. "How come?"

"Oh, she's helping distribute them," Jasmine answered. "We created batches for each house, and Padma volunteered her sister to take care of Gryffindor. There are one or two people in each house doing it. They offered to take the burden off of us, since we did the work of copying them."

"That was nice of them," Ginny observed.

"Yes, it was," Jasmine agreed, "but we thought it only right to give you yours personally."

The four Gryffindors were so engrossed in their conversation as they walked to dinner that they didn't notice all the extra looks they were getting from other witches, nor that the sound volume dropped slightly as conversations paused. However, Jasmine and Hermione had been on the receiving end of so many stares that year, particularly over the last week due to Skeeter's article, that they probably wouldn't have noticed anyway.

The first indication that something had changed was when an unknown witch in Hufflepuff colors gave Jasmine a hug and mumbled thanks as they left at the end of dinner.

"What in Merlin's name was that all about?" Jasmine asked, still a bit stunned.

"Did any of you recognize her?" Hermione asked.

"She's not in my year," Ginny said. "I'd at least recognize the face if she were."

"She didn't look any older than second year," Neville added. "And maybe only first."

"Maybe there was something in the pumpkin juice this evening?" Hermione said as they resumed their trek back to the Gryffindor tower, though now watching a bit more warily for anything odd happening around them.

* * *

Albus Dumbledore observed the Gryffindor table carefully as Jasmine Potter interacted with her friends. Her relationship with them continued to be good, which he was pleased to see, though her closeness with Miss Granger still worried him. The scathing article in the _Daily Prophet_ hadn't driven a wedge between them — in fact, it might have made them even more inseparable, and in retrospect he realized that he shouldn't have been surprised.

At this point he despaired of ever finding a way to reduce the muggleborn witch's influence on Miss Potter, which was not only a concern because of Miss Potter's changes in behavior but also a potential problem for his long term plans, he recently realized. The closer she was to the muggle world, the less support she'd have from pureblood families in the Wizengamot and the Ministry, which meant less political support for fighting Tom when he returned. _Maybe forcing her to grow up in and continually return to the muggle world wasn't my best idea,_ he lamented.

Because he was so focused on Miss Potter, he failed to notice other differences in behavior around the Great Hall, like the fact that so many witches seemed to be engrossed in books and chatting about them quietly — something that would normally only happen at the Ravenclaw table, if at all. When he saw that the Gryffindors were leaving, he started to turn back to his dinner and almost missed it when the Hufflepuff witch ran up and hugged Miss Potter.

 _Now that was an odd occurrence_ , he thought, nearly as surprised as Jasmine was. _Miss Cranmore is a second year Hufflepuff. I don't think that she and Miss Potter know each other or have ever had any cause to interact. So why would she hug her? Why is Miss Potter so surprised by it? I'm going to have to keep an eye on this..._

* * *

 **Saturday, March 13, 1995, Afternoon.**

"Fleur!" Hermione called out happily as the French witch entered the classroom.

"And Gabrielle?" Jasmine added, surprised to see the Fleur had come with her younger sister in tow. She was even more surprised to see how much Gabrielle had grown in such a short amount of time.

Both she and Jasmine jumped up to hug the sisters — it wasn't something that they had ever done before, but it immediately felt right to all of them. Hermione and Jasmine simply chalked it up to having been separated for so long and growing to miss their new friend; Fleur and Gabrielle knew better.

For her part, Gabrielle also felt that it was because she was greeting her heroine, the girl who saved her from the bottom of the Black Lake. Her hug for Jasmine went on just a bit longer than the one she gave Hermione.

While they were busy greeting each other by the door, Dobby and Winky popped in quietly to put food and drink on the table, something they always did in the background in order to encourage a closer relationship with the French champion.

"Look, Winky!" Dobby said softly. "You be seeing what I be seeing?"

Winky started nodding vigorously. "Yes, Dobby! There is being a bond with **both** Frenchy witches!" She paused and then frowned worriedly. "Winky is hoping they is not bonded with **all** Frenchy witches — we is not having enough Frenchy food for that…."

"Now they be helping our Mistresses!" Dobby said excitedly, ignoring her fretting and straining to keep his voice low. The two house elves had had a long argument when they first discovered that one French witch had a bond with their mistresses. Winky had been concerned that their creativity was causing problems, while Dobby insisted that it would only help in the long run. In the end Winky gave in since he had been bonded with Jasmine so long, but she remained skeptical.

As they were preparing to leave, however, Winky noticed something was amiss. "Dobby," she whispered hoarsely, "there be spying spells here! Old master Crouch always be making Winky look for them, and I be seeing them here!"

"Can Winky tell who be casting them?" Dobby asked, his anger unmistakable.

Winky shook her head. "No, Winky cannot do. But we must be removing them before Mistresses try to talk." Acting quickly, the house elves cancelled all of the listening and other monitoring charms they could find, vowing to start keeping a watch over this room to discover who was trying to spy on their mistresses.

Once all four witches returned to the table and served themselves some of the wonderful food that always mysteriously appeared when they met, Hermione asked, "Where have you been, Fleur? We've been watching for you everywhere and at all the meals."

"We were getting a little worried," Jasmine added with a hint of reproach. She and Hermione had been thrilled when they had received an owl from Fleur that morning asking to meet, but they were also miffed that the French witch had been out of communication for so long.

Fleur looked suitably contrite. "I am very sorry — I wanted to write to you, but Gabrielle and I are being given special training, and we were being kept in seclusion."

"Is this for the tournament?" Jasmine asked with a slight frown. "Seems a bit late to be starting."

"Non," Fleur said while shaking her head. "Zis eez something completely different. Zat eez why Gabrielle is training, too."

"Oui," Gabrielle added. "It eez very difficult, with both physical training and classroom lessons each for several 'ours every day."

"How did you grow so much, so quickly?" Jasmine asked Gabrielle, still amazed that she had changed so dramatically. "I almost didn't recognize you — you look so different now."

"Such changes are normal for veela who go through ze maturation process," Gabrielle answered, looking pleased that Jasmine had noticed how much she'd improved, "though I am going through it a bit early and a bit faster zan normal."

"It must be difficult," Hermione observed. "So much growth in such a short period of time must make things hard — like all the physical exercise."

Gabrielle nodded. "Oui, it eez a challenge, but I am happy zat it eez finally 'appening. I 'ave been anxious to grow up. Zere is much for me to do with my life, and I do not want to wait around to start."

"Ze reason why we needed to meet with you zis morning," Fleur eventually said, "eez because we would like to invite ze both of you to our Eostre celebration on ze twenty-first of zis month."

"Eostre?" Jasmine asked.

"That's the spring equinox holiday that celebrates the coming of spring, planting new seeds, and fertility, right?" Hermione asked, remembering some of what she had read in _The Power of Love_.

"Correct," Fleur responded. "Zis holiday is Germanic rather zan Celtic, but it eez still important for zome in ze magical world."

"It's the origin of many Easter traditions," Hermione said to Jasmine. "Easter eggs and rabbits, for example, are remnants of ancient beliefs about fertility."

"Huh," Jasmine said, "I always wondered what they could possibly have to do with the Christian Easter celebration. That makes more sense."

"So, will you come?" Gabrielle asked, both excitement and hope clear on her face. "Please say you will!"

"Will this be a veela celebration, like the last time?" Jasmine asked.

"Oui," Fleur answered. "Not everyone zere will be veela, but ze specifics of what we do and say will be ze same as you would find in a veela community celebrating ze day."

Jasmine and Hermione looked at each other for a moment, trying to decide what to do. Their last magical holiday ritual had led to some bad experiences at first, but it all turned out fine in the end — better than things had been beforehand, in fact.

"Yes, we'll come," Hermione answered as they turned back to the French veela.

"We look forward to it," Jasmine added.

"Oh, before you go," Hermione said, realizing that the meeting was probably coming to an end, "We have these books for you." She picked up a bag that had been by her feet and placed it on the table. "We only have one set for you, Fleur, because we didn't know Gabrielle would be coming too — or even that she was still around, actually."

"We'll get you a second set if you want it," Jasmine added, "but you can probably share for now. There are several books, so you'll each have plenty to read."

"Assuming we can find ze time," Fleur said as she started pulling books out of the enchanted bookbag. Both she and her sister were intrigued by what they found. Because veela culture wasn't as strict and repressed as British magical society, the ideas in the books weren't nearly as radical for them as they were for the witches attending Hogwarts. They were no less interesting, though, especially once the two French witches found out that the books were muggle in origin.

"I had no idea zat ze muggles wrote and thought such zings," Gabrielle said as she flipped through _The Beauty Myth_ by Naomi Wolf.

"Not all muggles agree with what's in these books," Hermione cautioned them. "That one in particular has been very controversial, according to my mother. However, many of the ideas in the books are more commonly accepted now than they were a few decades ago. And the existence of similar books and people who endorse such views is somewhat common now, too. Certainly more common than in magical Britain."

"Some of zese ideas are not uncommon among veela, or even French wizards and witches," Gabrielle commented, "but not all. Even zough ze French magicals are much more open and tolerant, zere are still some ideas here which would be considered quite radical, I zink."

"Can you get more copies of zese?" Fleur asked hopefully. "My maman and 'er friend are 'elping train us, and zey would probably want to read zese books as well."

"Sure," Jasmine said with a shrug. "These are magical copies we made of the originals, and they should last several years at least." She didn't notice the widened eyes of the two French witches at hearing that. "We can make a couple more sets or help you get original copies from the muggle world. How do we get them to you, though? You aren't around much."

"Let's do it now." Hermione said. "We can pass by the Gryffindor tower as you leave the castle. Jasmine and I will go in, make a couple more copies of the set, and you can take them with you."

"You can do zat? Zo easily?" Gabrielle asked, very impressed that they could create such stable, long-lasting copies of books.

"Sure," Hermione said. "How many do you want?"

"Two... no, four more copies, if you can?" Fleur said. "Maman may want to send a set home."

"No problem," Jasmine responded. "Let's go take care of that now." Gabrielle felt something very close to awe as she followed them down to the Gryffindor common room.

* * *

 **Saturday, March 13, 1995, Night.**

When Jasmine and Hermione had finished their wandless and mental magic practice for the night, Jasmine held her girlfriend back from leaving. Hermione had already figured out that there was something bothering Jasmine and was simply waiting for her to initiate a conversation about it. She'd learned some time ago that it was better to let Jasmine speak up when she was ready than to browbeat her about it — not that she always heeded that lesson, of course, but she did try.

So she sat and waited as patiently as she could while Jasmine figured out how to word whatever it was that she had been thinking about. Finally, Jasmine asked, "Do you think it's worth staying in the magical world?"

To say that Hermione was gobsmacked would be an understatement. She had considered many possible topics that Jasmine might want to talk about, but this wasn't something she would have thought of in a million years. "What?" she asked. "Wh-why would you think about leaving magic?"

"Not magic," Jasmine said as she sighed with frustration. "I mean the magical world. Magical society. All of the bigotry, intolerance, that sort of thing."

"Oh," Hermione responded, starting to calm a little. "What brought this on?"

"It's something I've been thinking about for a while now. Even before this year," Jasmine said. "The conversation with Fleur and Gabrielle earlier today reminded me of how backwards and repressed magical Britain is, but even other magical communities that are better are still behind muggle society."

She sighed again as she ran her fingers through her hair, then reached out to take Hermione's hand. "This year, or maybe these past few weeks, have really driven home for me how bad things are. You and I can't walk around freely, just holding hands. Can we do that in muggle Britain?" Jasmine's voice grew thick as she continued, "Can we just... you know... be us? Be together and be happy _because_ we're together, without others trying to hurt us simply because of who we lo... who we choose to be with?"

Hermione squeezed Jasmine's hand, understanding now what she was talking about. "Everywhere in muggle Britain? Definitely not. There are lots of places here and abroad that wouldn't accept us. But some places? Sure. From what I can remember seeing on the news, things are improving. I think it's much better now than it was just five or ten years ago. It wouldn't be easy for us, but we wouldn't be completely ostracized by everyone."

"And there are so many other things that we wouldn't have to worry about," Jasmine continued. "No dementors, no Death Eaters, no basilisks…. Look, I know that muggle society isn't perfect. I know there are plenty of problems and that life for us wouldn't be a bed of roses. But the more time I spend in magical Britain, the worse it seems to me. Magic is great, but frankly, wizards and witches kinda suck."

Hermione snorted at that. "Not all of them suck, you know. And they're still human, which means that their problems exist with all humans, including muggles."

"True," Jasmine conceded, "but magic must change something about wizards and witches, because the problems seem awfully concentrated around here."

Silence fell between them until Hermione asked in a small voice, "So... you really want to leave?"

"I don't know — maybe," Jasmine answered. "Not now, obviously, and certainly not without you. But the more I think about it, the less convinced I am that there are enough benefits to magical society to outweigh the problems. I'm not seeing a lot of reasons to stay, but I do keep tripping over reasons to leave. So I was wondering what you think."

"I... I'm not sure," Hermione said. "I've always focused on the magic, not the people; and since magic is great, I've been happy. Or... content, at least. I guess. But now that you've asked, I have to admit that that will only keep working at school — and even then, only barely. Once we graduate from Hogwarts, we'll have to deal with magical society with all its faults. I won't be able to just bury myself in books and ignore the problems around me."

"It's not hard to understand why you prefer books to people," Jasmine conceded. "I wish I could hide in a pile of books, too, but you know how trouble always seems to find me."

Hermione nodded at that, then fell silent again, lost in thought. "I'll have to think about it," she finally said with a sigh, "but do you think we'd really be able to just leave?"

"I don't see why not," Jasmine answered. "They can't force us to stay, especially once we complete our OWLs next year. That will make us fully qualified witches with the right to leave if we want. Just like Bonnie did, remember? If the exchange rate isn't too bad, the gold in my vaults should be enough to see us through getting muggle educations. We might get a bit from the basilisk, too, which would give us even more of a cushion. We won't live like queens, but we won't starve. I hope. Then we just need to figure out where we can live openly and what sorts of jobs can be found there."

Hermione shook her head and said, "Jasmine, that's your gold. That's your inheritance from your family. I'm not going to take—" She was cut off as Jasmine leaned forward and kissed her passionately.

When she drew back a few inches, Jasmine looked very intently into her girlfriend's brown eyes and said, "Hermione Granger, if we're going to be together, then we're going to be **together**. That means that everything is shared. It won't be **my** gold, it will be **our** gold. **Our** cushion. The fact that I inherited it from my parents won't make it any less yours than if I earn it working a till in Tesco's. OK?"

Hermione gazed deep into Jasmine's green eyes for a long moment, seeing the sincerity and unspoken love there, before leaning forward herself and returning Jasmine's kiss just as passionately. When she stopped, she said softly, "OK. And the decision to stay or go will be **our** decision, made together, right?"

"Exactly," Jasmine said with a smile before sitting all the way back again. "Together — always."

Apolline and Adrienne stayed up late flipping through the books which Fleur and Gabrielle had brought from the English witches. Muggle society was different from both magical society generally and veela culture specifically, so not all of the ideas and arguments in the books were really relevant. Some were, though, and on the whole the books were still quite interesting.

"We should definitely pass these along," Apolline commented.

"I agree," Adrienne said, "as well as the information about how they were made. I'm pleased to see that a muggle background is looking like it will be more of an asset to Miss Granger than a disadvantage."

* * *

 **Sunday, March 14, 1995, Afternoon.**

"How did everything go with the books?" was Minerva's first question when she sat down for tea with her two favorite Gryffindors.

"Well enough, I guess," Hermione said. "Our study group took them to distribute, and they seemed very happy to finally have them. I assume that all the sets have been given out by now, but I don't know yet what everyone thinks. Ginny liked them, and even Neville thought they were interesting, but we haven't really spoken to anyone else about them."

"I've been reading them in every spare moment since you left my office Wednesday evening," Minerva admitted. "That includes staying up a bit too late most nights so I could either read, or finish work I didn't complete earlier because I was reading. I have to admit, I'm quite impressed by what some of those muggle authors have to say. Impressed and surprised, because I didn't realize that muggles thought and wrote such things."

"Not all do," Hermione pointed out. "Not even all women agree with everything that's in those books, but some of the ideas are widespread enough to be taken for granted these days. Other ideas may be controversial, but it's not hard to find someone who defends them."

"And they aren't ostracized by the rest of society when they do," Jasmine added.

"Right," Hermione agreed. "People who disagree with these ideas might say they're wrong or ridiculous, but not so evil and depraved that anyone who believes them should be shunned."

"If only that attitude could spread to magical Britain," Minerva said sadly. "Well, do let me know how the books are received by the students, if you find out."

"Would other female professors be interested in them?" Hermione said suddenly, mentally kicking herself for not having thought to ask that before.

"I've considered that," Minerva responded. "I would have to tread carefully because if the wrong person saw some of that material, it could cause a scandal. That's why I was so happy when you told me that Mr. Longbottom had found glamour charms to disguise the books for the students." She took a sip of tea before continuing, "I'm going to have to carefully sound out a couple of the female professors to gauge what their political and social views are like. Professor Sprout is much too conservative, I'm sure. Professor Sinistra is fairly young, so she might be more receptive. And then there's Professor Trelawney…." She rolled her eyes and shook her head. "Yes, I'll definitely have to give it some thought first. I'll let you know if anything comes of my inquiries."

After the two younger witches thanked her, she continued, "And speaking of inquiries, I finally got word back from my contact about dealing with a basilisk. He's not magical, as I believe I mentioned, so exchanging messages can be slow."

"What did you learn?" Hermione asked.

"He said he can do it and he'll be discrete," Minerva responded. "But it will be time-consuming, and it won't be cheap. Evidently it's a very difficult job, in part because it is best done non-magically, even if one is magical. According to him, any residual magic in the carcass can interfere with magical spells that one might use to harvest it. He doesn't recommend anyone try to do it unless they have plenty of experience with what he calls 'monsters.' He could train you, but that would take time, too."

"How did you ever get to know someone like that?" Jasmine asked. "A muggle who deals with such things has to be pretty rare."

"Oh, one of his friends is a witch who ran into a spot of trouble and had to come to Britain for some help getting her life straightened out," Minerva explained. "I met him when he visited her."

"What about elves?" Hermione asked, wondering why she hadn't thought of that before.

"Elves? What do you mean?" Minerva responded.

"House elves can obviously be trained to do all sorts of jobs," Hermione said, "so why not this one?"

"Ah," Minerva said, "and you just happen to have two elves that are available for work." She paused for a moment before continuing, "He didn't mention elves, though to be fair he may not know about them. I don't know if elves even exist where he lives. I'll write back to ask him if he thinks they could be sufficiently trained for this sort of work."

"We may need to pay him out of whatever we make from the basilisk," Jasmine said.

Minerva nodded, "I'll let him know. I think he'll be understanding on that point."

* * *

 **Sunday, March 14, 1995, Night.**

For the second night in a row, Hermione was having trouble falling asleep. Ever since Jasmine had told her that she had long thought about turning her back on the magical world, she had trouble thinking about anything else.

Once she had found out about magic, Hermione never wanted to be involved with anything else. It became the focus of her entire life. The magical world, though… that was something different.

She hadn't thought about it as deeply as Jasmine obviously had, and in retrospect she probably should have. The more she did think about it, the more she realized that Jasmine's complaints were valid… and the less happy she was with magical society, especially in Britain. It no longer seemed like a wondrous, happy place that she'd love to live and raise children in.

If they couldn't stay in magical society as it currently existed, that left reforming it or leaving it. Was it worth saving? Was it worth all the pain, tears, and sacrifice that would be needed to reform it, especially when the two of them had a familiar and somewhat welcoming society waiting for them?

* * *

 **Tuesday, March 16, 1995, Late Afternoon.**

"Potter!" came the gruff voice of their Defense professor as the students were packing up their books at the end of class. "I need you to stay behind for a little bit so I can talk to you about your hex deflection test." When Hermione made to sit back down, Moody turned to her and said, "No, you should go on ahead. I'm supposed to limit these sorts of conversations to just the student involved."

Hermione looked puzzled, then frowned in concern, but finally nodded and gave Jasmine an uncertain smile as she said, "I'll see you back in the common room before dinner."

After she left, Moody waved his wand and caused all of the desks and chairs to slide to the sides of the room. He then looked down at a large book on his desk before Jasmine spoke up, "I know I could have done better on that test, but..."

"It's alright, Potter," Moody said as he waved his hand dismissively. "I figured out what you're probably doing wrong, and the explanation is in this book." The last was said as he poked a stubby finger against one of the open pages. Moody then looked up and started walking across the room. Halfway there, he stopped, turned, and said, "Bah, I'll need the book after all. Would you grab it for me, lass? In fact, why don't you show me how you're doing with your summoning charm." Jasmine nodded and pulled out her wand as she turned towards the teacher's desk.

"Thanks," Moody continued, "my bad leg has been bothering me all day for some reason, and now..."

That was the last word Jasmine heard before her world went dark.

* * *

 **Tuesday, March 16, 1995, Evening.**

When Hermione arrived at the study group's table, she was alone, without any books, and looked like a complete wreck. "What's wrong?" Susan asked immediately.

"None of you have seen Jasmine recently, have you?" she asked, worry and fear clear in her voice.

"No," they all said, looking around at each other and shaking their heads.

Hermione looked to be close to tears. "I left her with Professor Moody at the end of DADA, and she never showed up to go to dinner. She didn't show up at dinner, either. She's not in the DADA classroom... she's not in the castle at all. Professor Moody is in his quarters, but isn't answering my knocks at his door. I... I don't know what's going on. I knew I shouldn't have left her, I just **knew** it! He's been acting so oddly..."

"Shhh, shhh," Padma said as she stood up and put her arm around Hermione's shoulders. "Have you told any professors yet?"

Hermione nodded wearily. "I told Professor McGonagall, who was going to go talk to Professor Moody. I decided to come here to find out if you knew anything. I...I didn't know what else to do."

"How can you be sure she isn't in the castle?" Daphne asked.

Hermione shook her head and said, "I can't tell you, but I'm positive. She's not in the castle, not **anywhere**." She couldn't reveal the existence of the cloak or the map, the latter of which she had pulled from Jasmine's trunk and checked before deciding it was time to panic.

Just then, Professor McGonagall came into the library. Hermione turned to look at her with a hopeful expression, but that hope crashed when she saw how upset McGonagall looked.

"Hello, everyone, I'm afraid I must be brief," she said, then turned to Hermione. "Miss Weasley told me you'd be here. I couldn't get Alastor to answer his door, and I couldn't open it myself, so I went to the Headmaster and told him everything you told me. He confirmed that Miss Potter isn't anywhere in the castle. Right now he's breaking down the wards protecting Alastor's room."

Turning to the others gathered around the table, all with shocked looks on their faces, she continued, "The next step will probably be a full search of the castle, which means the rest of you will have to go back to your dorms. Although the order hasn't been given yet, I fully expect that Hogwarts will be locked down shortly so a thorough search and investigation can be made." Turning back to Hermione, she said, "Not you, though, Miss Granger. The Headmaster will want to get your story again directly and probably ask a few questions. We should go to his office now, because if he isn't back there already, he soon will be."

As the group packed up their books and supplies, they watched McGonagall gently lead Hermione away. They could tell that the Gryffindor witch was barely holding it together, and this more than anything had them worried. They knew that she, Ron, and Jasmine had been on several harrowing adventures together over the past four years, and at no point had anyone in their study group ever seen her so distraught.

If she was breaking down now, how much worse might the situation be compared to everything else those three had gone through?

* * *

"Suze, where are you going?" Hannah asked her best friend. "Our common room is in the other direction."

"I know that, Han," Susan replied irritably, "but I'm not going there. Not yet, anyway, I have something important to do first."

"But Professor McGonagall said that the school was in lockdown," Hannah protested as they started going up another flight of steps, Susan taking them two and three at a time.

"No, she didn't," Susan responded, breathing heavily from the exertion. "She said the school would probably go into lockdown shortly. Which means I don't have much time to get to the owlery before that happens."

"The owlery?" Hannah asked. "Oh!" she said after a moment's thought. "You're sending a message to your auntie?"

"Exactly," Susan responded. "And we don't have much time. When we get there, I'll start writing while you call down Hector. Get him ready for me."

"Got it!" Hannah said, glad there was something she could do to help.

Fortunately, the two Hufflepuff witches made it to the owlery in time, and in very short order Hector was flying as fast as he could towards London, begged by his mistress to get her message to her aunt with all possible speed.

He would not fail her.


	48. I Will Survive

**A/N:** **Trigger warning!** This is the graveyard/ritual scene, and the abuse that Jasmine experiences is worse than what Harry went through. There is magical torture, physical abuse, threats of rape, and a bit more. This is easily the darkest chapter of the fic so far, and it won't be the last chapter with dark scenes or events. Voldemort isn't a nice guy, after all.

 **Recommendation:** This chapter's recommended fic is "Waiting" by EJ Daniels. While once again tending to Harry's injuries, Hermione has a revelation about the two of them and resolves to stop waiting. H/Hr.

* * *

 **Chapter 48 - I Will Survive**

 **Tuesday, March 16, 1995, Night.**

When Jasmine Potter awoke, it happened very slowly and stopped short of full consciousness. She could tell that she was lying on a hard stone floor, though for some reason she also thought she was floating. It felt... good? Maybe it was good. It was hard to tell.

It was dark, so it might have been night. There was definitely a pounding in her head that seemed to keep her brain all fuzzy, and she wasn't able to concentrate on anything except the hard stone and darkness. The floating just seemed to... float in and out.

Somewhere in the distance there were... sounds? Voices? She couldn't tell. She had no idea where she was. She hadn't a clue how she got there. She wasn't even sure what her last memory was. She had a feeling that perhaps she should be afraid, but she couldn't figure out why.

Just when she began to wonder who she was, she lost consciousness again.

* * *

Jasmine faded in and out several times during the next day. _Is it day?_ she wondered at one point. _It's probably day. There's light, and the light is different every time I wake up. So, yeah, day. Probably._

Something growled and she tensed in fear, but then she realized it was her stomach. _So I'm... hungry? I guess? Yes, definitely hungry. That might mean that I've been here a while, though I don't know when I ate last. Or where I ate last._

She tried to stretch and found that she couldn't move a muscle.

Next she tried to say something, just to see if she could indeed hear anything, but she couldn't make any sounds at all. Silenced and immobile, she started to panic a little. She might not have known what was going on, but she was pretty sure this was bad.

Every time she tried to focus, her mind grew fuzzy and she faded out of consciousness. With each successive awakening, however, she seemed to regain a little more of her mental functioning and began to piece together what might have happened to her.

She figured out that she had last been at Hogwarts. She wasn't sure what that meant at first, but she eventually remembered that it was a school in a castle. She guessed that she had been a student or something. That was all she could remember before waking up... here. _Wherever "here" is_ , she thought morosely. _It's not comfortable, except for the floaty feeling, and I still can't move or talk; so whatever's happening to me, it can't be good._

Panic started to rise in her again, but she forced it back down, afraid that it would prevent her from continuing to think straight. Sounds kept coming back, but they were muffled and distant. _I'm pretty sure I'm alive, at least, and if I'm alive, then there has to be hope. I hope. Heh. Hermione would know what to…._

 _Wait... Hermione? Who is that?_ she asked herself, growing frantic. _I know that name! She's... she's…._

Unfortunately, the adrenaline from getting frantic brought the floaty feelings and fuzziness back with a vengeance, and all her coherent thinking immediately slipped away. All she was left with was the sound "Hermione"; but when she drifted into unconsciousness again, she had a smile on her lips for the first time.

* * *

 **Wednesday, March 17, 1995, Night.**

The next time Jasmine work up, she wasn't alone. She could hear sounds all around her, and she could feel the vibrations of movement. Hands grabbed her by her arms and roughly pulled her to her feet. She was in no shape to stand on her own, so they held her upright, fingers digging painfully into her arms.

She blinked rapidly, trying to focus on what was happening around her. This was the first time in... well, she had no idea how much time she'd spent there, but this was her first opportunity to get information. A large, dark figure appeared before her and used a gloved hand to lift her chin. Her neck craned upward to look at where a face was supposed to be, but all she could see was the deep shadows created by a black hood.

"Awake already, are we?" came a cruel voice from the depths of the hood. _That voice sounds familiar_ , she thought with a frown. _I know it. I'm sure I do. But from where?_

The hand holding up her chin turned and grabbed her face around her mouth, squeezing hard. "Now that won't do. No, that won't do at all."

The hand left her face, and the figure seemed to move backwards away from her. "Hold her tight," the cruel voice commanded. Just as she thought she was starting to remember where she knew the voice from, there was an explosion of pain in her head and everything went black.

* * *

When Jasmine woke again, she was upright. _Well, this is different_ , was her first thought. _Hey, I'm able to think. Kinda_. She still felt a bit fuzzy, but it wasn't nearly as bad and even seemed to be receding. Recent memories flooded her brain; as hazy and convoluted as they were, she could pull enough sense out of them to realize that she had been kidnapped — and by people who wanted to hurt her. Badly.

The aching in her jaw reminded her that they had already hurt her, and things weren't likely to get any better. With that thought, she tried moving her jaw a little, but the tenderness soon put a stop to her efforts. Instead, she ran her tongue around the inside of her mouth, discovering three places that were jagged and exquisitely sensitive. _So that's what that coppery taste in my mouth is_ , she concluded. _Broken teeth and probably some cuts in my mouth. Bleeding all over, I'll bet._

Her first instinct was to start yanking on her bonds, but she ruthlessly shoved that aside. _Don't panic — think!_ she told herself. Consciously willing herself to take slow, even breaths, she took stock and found that in addition to being upright, her arms were outstretched and tied to something... something hard and cold. She guessed it might be stone, but she didn't want to open her eyes to check. She wanted to wait on that for as long as possible.

Unfortunately, she concluded that she couldn't keep waiting. She needed information, and to get it, she was going to have to open her eyes and let everyone know she was awake. _I just hope it doesn't turn out as badly as it did the last time I woke up_ , she thought ruefully. _My jaw still hurts from whatever hit me._

Very slowly, she opened her eyes and found that though it was dark out, she could tell she was in some sort of graveyard. It dawned on her that she was seeing it by moonlight, and indeed, she could see the moon, large and full, just beginning to rise over the trees. In the distance and off to the right, she caught a glimpse of the lights of a small town. The next thing she noticed was a cauldron, also incredibly large and rather full, with a dumpy man in a hooded robe working over it. _I hope that's not for me_ , she thought.

Behind the man with the cauldron was what looked like a stone altar — which seemed really creepy and out of place in a graveyard — and on it was a small bundle that occasionally shifted a bit. On either side of this scene were two men wearing robes and masks. Immediately she recognized the clothing as Death Eater regalia, just like what she'd seen last summer when Death Eaters attacked the Quidditch World Cup. _Oh, crap_ , she thought as panic started to bubble up once again, _now I_ _ **know**_ _I'm in trouble._

"She's awake, my Lord," one of the figures called out.

A voice came from around the altar, and in fact she would have sworn that it came from the tiny bundle _on_ the altar. Suddenly, her scar flared in hot, searing pain, causing her to hiss and jerk her head back in surprise. "Your end draws close, Jasmine Potter — closer than you realize." It was a high-pitched, sibilant voice that would have been grating on her ears if she hadn't already been so distracted by the pain in her scar.

"Soon We will once again come into Our power and take Our rightful place at the head of the wizarding world. You, witch, will be shown your proper place at Our feet, and only when you are begging for your death will We grant you the fate which you escaped nearly fifteen years ago!"

Jasmine shivered, and the hair on the back of her neck stood on end when she realized where she'd heard that voice before and who must be in that bundle. It was the same voice she'd heard in the dream she'd had last summer. Based on what it said then and what it was saying now, it could only be one person, trying to return to full life again. She could feel her heart pounding in her chest, and her breathing grew faster and shallower as she started to realize just how bad her situation was.

"But it is too soon for you to be awake. We have more preparations to make yet," came the voice again. "Deal with her."

The taller and thinner of the two figures standing at either side walked over to her. He stepped up close, too close. She could smell his breath as he leaned in. She tried to turn her head away, but he grabbed her chin in his gloved hand and forced her to face him. _This must be the same guy who talked to me before_ , she thought. _He grabbed me the same way then._

The man started to whisper in a low, menacing voice. "You have no idea what's going on here or what's going to happen tonight, but you'll find out soon enough, witch. I can promise you that you won't like any of it. I, however, intend to enjoy every minute of it."

His hand then dropped from her chin to her breast. He squeezed and twisted, **hard** , causing her to gasp in pain. "Oh, yes, I'm definitely going to enjoy every minute of it. I never got a chance to take your mudblood mother, but you look enough like her that I think I'll be able to manage. Then maybe you'll start to regret all of the trouble you've caused me over the years."

Through the pain, she finally realized why she had recognized the man's voice earlier: it was Lucius Malfoy. This was the same man who set a basilisk loose in a school full of children and then tried to kill her personally at the end of second year.

Another twist brought another hiss of pain as he continued, "My master has promised you to me once he is done with you. And when I'm done, I'll toss what's left, naked and bleeding, to the rest of the Dark Lord's servants. You'll be **begging** for death by then, but you won't receive that mercy until every one of us has had our fill of you. Then and only then will you be released from your pain and misery."

"But before that point," Malfoy said as his hand dropped away and she saw it move out of the corner of her eye, "I'll make sure you're watching as I start doing the same to your little mudblood friend. When you finally die, you'll die knowing that she'll be experiencing all the same things as you, and all because of you." It was then that his fist connected with the side of her jaw once more, delivering her into darkness.

* * *

The final time Jasmine woke in the graveyard, she didn't bother trying to feign unconsciousness. She couldn't, really, because of how much pain her jaw was in. It felt incredibly swollen, and she couldn't move it without there being horrible, grinding pain. _Broken_ , she concluded. _Who knew Malfoy had such a mean right hook?_

Suddenly a cloaked figure was right in front of her. She recognized the Death Eater regalia, but he was built differently from Malfoy, and she concluded that he was the second figure from earlier. Over his shoulder, she could see that the full moon was high in the night sky now, which meant that she'd been unconscious for at least a couple of hours.

"Good, you're awake again," the second Death Eater said to her in a menacing but unfamiliar voice. She wanted to twist away, to escape whatever it was he was about to do, but the bonds holding her were too strong for her to even wiggle. "It also looks like the Confusing Concoction we gave you is wearing off as well. I hope you enjoyed the experience! You won't want to miss any of what's about to happen. It's what we've been working towards all year — it's why you were entered into the Triwizard Tournament, after all."

"Wha?" she tried to say, though the sound she made barely sounded human. As minimal as it was, it was still enough to send spikes of pain along her jaw, forcing tears out of her eyes.

"Oh, that's right, you don't know," he said in mock helpfulness and apparent pleasure at her distress. "I'm the one who entered you into the tournament so you'd end up here. Granted, this wasn't supposed to happen for another couple of months, but plans had to change, and so here you are now." The man giggled madly before continuing, "You should be honored that you're taking part in this. You're helping the greatest wizard in the history of the world ascend to power once again."

He started to move away, but then turned back and leaned in close, his hot breath tickling the sore skin of her cheek. "Oh, and by the way, once he's done with you," the man gestured over towards where Lucius Malfoy was waiting, "you've been promised to me next. I was in prison, you see, for so many years, and I haven't had a witch in such a long time." He started giggling again as he walked off, and Jasmine desperately wanted to vomit.

There was no doubt in her mind what they intended to do with her. Those threats, combined with the knowledge that Voldemort was right out there in front of her, terrified her more than anything she'd ever known. Not even her nightmares had been anywhere close to this. She concentrated and held it in, though, because if she threw up, she'd have to hold her mouth open, and the pain would be intolerable.

Despite the haze of agony that had descended over her, Jasmine could see that something was starting. The two men in Death Eater robes and masks began walking around the cauldron with their wands pointed at the ground. As they chanted something, pulses of light issued from the ends of their wands and into the ground, gradually creating a glowing circle. While this happened, the fire beneath the cauldron rose up, causing the liquid inside to start bubbling and sparking as if it were itself on fire.

Jasmine kept looking around in the dark, hoping to see something — anything — that might be useful, assuming she was ever let out of her bonds. All around, though, was darkness and greyish shapes that she assumed must be gravestones. She didn't know where she was, she was certain no one else knew where she was, and she could see nothing that would aid her. _Not good not good not good not good…._

The short, dumpy man in black robes was over by the altar chanting something over the bundle that Jasmine was certain contained Voldemort. Every so often the pain in her scar, which had receded in comparison to her broken jaw, would flare up and burn. Soon the man stopped, then turned and walked over until he stood a few feet in front of Jasmine. When he began speaking in a shaky voice filled with fear and uncertainty, Jasmine immediately recognized him as Peter Pettigrew. _I never should have saved him from Remus and Sirius_ , she lamented.

"B-b-b-bone of the father," he said while waving his wand over the ground in front of Jasmine, "unknowingly given, you will r-r-r-resurrect your son." The ground before her started to move like liquid, and bones rose up out of it. Jasmine shivered as she realized that she was tied to a large, cross-shaped grave marker, and all she could do was watch while Pettigrew levitated one of the larger bones and dropped it into the cauldron.

"Hurry, Wormtail," the baby Voldemort thing called out from the altar.

Standing next to the madly bubbling cauldron, Pettigrew pulled out a long, wicked looking dagger with his left hand and said with a quavering voice, "F-f-f-flesh of the s-s-servant, willingly given, you will renew your l-l-l-ord." He then stretched out his right hand over the cauldron and, before Jasmine could look away, sliced his hand off in a single cut.

Pettigrew jammed the stump of his right hand against his body with a moan as the cauldron started bubbling even more vigorously, going through a rainbow of color shifts. Before she realized it, Pettigrew was moving towards her with the shaking knife held out in front of him, almost as though he was afraid of her. "B-b-b-blood of the enemy," he said, his voice betraying the pain he had to be enduring, "forcibly t-t-t-taken, you will revive your f-f-f-foe." He then ripped off a large portion of her shirt and drew his dagger along her now-bare arm, cutting her deeply and forcing a loud scream out from her which was increased by the pain from her broken jaw.

Pettigrew paid no attention to her distress and walked back to the cauldron, where he shook the blood-stained dagger at the bubbling liquid. When drops of her blood struck the surface, the bubbling grew so violent that it threatened to spill out over the sides.

"Now, Wormtail, now!" Voldemort screeched. Pettigrew bent down, scooped the bundle up in one arm, and dumped a tiny creature into the cauldron, where Jasmine heard it hit the bottom with a dull thud. For a moment she hoped that it might drown, but as the pain in her scar increased, she realized that was a vain hope. Soon black smoke began to pour out of the cauldron, spreading across the graveyard. It was thickest up close, though, and blocked Jasmine's view of what was going on.

She didn't need to see to understand what had happened when she heard a voice say, "Wormtail! Robe Us!" Just as quickly as it appeared, the black smoke dissipated, revealing a tall, pale figure climbing out of the cauldron. _Please, no,_ she thought desperately, _not this…._

What Jasmine noticed first was just how white and pale its skin was. What she noticed second, and immediately wished that she hadn't, was that it looked more like a Ken doll than a real person: not anatomically correct.

Still whimpering on the ground, Pettigrew didn't move fast enough, so the second of the Death Eaters ran up and held out a robe for Voldemort to slip into. Then all three of the other men prostrated themselves in front of their Dark Lord, kissing the hem of his robes and professing their undying loyalty. Despite her terror, Jasmine couldn't help but be disgusted and wondered how this could possibly constitute the crème de la crème of pureblood society.

It seemed that Voldemort had similar thoughts because Jasmine could tell that he was sneering at the men groveling before him. He then reached down, yanked up the left arm of one of them, and pulled back the sleeve to reveal an angry, reddish Dark Mark. Jasmine couldn't imagine why anyone would want to put something so ugly on themselves, but a moment later all thought ceased when Voldemort pushed his wand against the Mark, causing her scar to flare red-hot on her forehead as she hissed in pain.

It wasn't long before she heard the cracks of apparition as people in black robes and Death Eater masks appeared all around them. Hesitantly at first, then more quickly, they all moved in around the re-embodied Voldemort, prostrating themselves like the first three and jostling each other to get a chance to kiss the hem of his robe, looking like dogs fighting over an old bone. As much as she wanted to turn away, as much as she wanted to flee in terror and never look back, she couldn't help but be fascinated and disgusted by the scene playing out in front of her.

"Friends and family," he declared magnanimously, arms stretched out like a benevolent deity, "It is good that you have come to greet Us at Our return. For too long have We wandered in the wilderness, alone and without succor." He paused for a moment, then his voice lost what little warmth it had and turned menacing. "Indeed, We have been forced to wonder what happened to all of Our faithful supporters. What happened to all those who once made vows of loyalty and service to Us. Why were We not sought out? Why were We not provided aid in Our time of need?"

There was another pause, and a heavy silence hung in the air.

"Well?" Voldemort half-shouted, and his considerable magic burst forth, pushing all of his prostrating minions away from him. Almost instantly they started babbling about having looked everywhere in their desire to find him but without any success. Jasmine wanted to snort in derision because from where she was hanging, she could tell it was all a load of self-serving hippogriff dung; and from the look on Voldemort's face, he wasn't buying it either. _Is it bad that I'm actually agreeing with that creep?_ she wondered. _What's next — am I going to start sympathizing with him about how hard it is to get good minions these days?_

"Enough," Voldemort finally declared with disgust. "Very few of you proved to be truly loyal when it counted. Very few of you were true to Us when you were needed." He sneered down at them as they whimpered in fear. "However, this is a great day for Us, and Lord Voldemort is nothing if not generous in victory. For now, you are forgiven — but only if you do not give Us any more cause to doubt your loyalty." The groveling increased as the Death Eaters realized their good fortune.

Only now did Voldemort look over at Jasmine, who was still hanging limp and in pain from the cross-shaped grave marker. "And now we come to the so-called Girl Who Lived, Jasmine Potter. The impudent, uppity little witch who not only made this great event possible, but who will be providing this evening's entertainment as well." The Death Eaters all started chuckling in a knowing manner, and Jasmine got the feeling that the reference to "entertainment" was something standard for these gatherings. She also had no doubts about what he had in mind, and despite knowing that it was futile, she started straining desperately against her bonds again, wishing beyond anything that she could get free.

As if he sensed her heightened fear, Voldemort appeared to glide towards her with a predatory smile and said, "Struggle all you want, it won't do you any good. There's nowhere to go and no one will come to save you. Oh, yes, I know you're hoping that old fool of a Headmaster will swoop in with his phoenix to save the day, but We've had plenty of time to plan this out carefully. We had thirteen muggles sacrificed in a ritual to create wards that would hide you from all manner of detection, and another thirteen to keep out anyone who doesn't have one of Our marks or who isn't brought in by one of Our servants."

"Tell me, witch," he asked as he moved a little closer, "how does it feel to have been the key to Our resurrection? How does it feel to be coming to the end of your usefulness? Hm? Tell me, now that you are approaching your end — an end that will be filled with pain and suffering — how does it feel to know that the only purpose you've managed to serve in your entire life is to help make Us even greater than before?"

All Jasmine could do is stare in horror at him through half-lidded eyes as she fought against the twin pains from her jaw and her scar. Her earlier efforts to control her breathing were forgotten as her lungs started pulling in quick, shallow breaths and she continued to jerk against the bonds around her wrists.

"Well?" Voldemort demanded in a louder voice. When she still didn't answer, his wand moved faster than she could follow and something like a bludgeoning hex slammed into her midsection, forcing her to expel all of the air in her lungs in a long, piteous moan of pain. "Why do you not answer? Why do you insist on defying Us, even to the last?"

Another hex was cast at her, this time at her chest, and she was certain she heard at least one rib crack, adding yet another element of pain to the thickening haze that was hampering her ability to think straight. She had no idea where in Britain she was and she didn't have a wand, so even if she could get free, she couldn't see how she had any hope of getting out of this alive. And, according to Voldemort, there was no chance that anyone would be able to find her. It was only a question of how much pain, humiliation, and suffering they'd put her through before the end.

"Master!" came a voice as Voldemort raised his wand to strike at her again.

"You dare?" Voldemort asked menacingly. "You dare interrupt Us?"

"Please, Master," the voice pleaded again. "I... I think her jaw is broken. I don't think she **can** answer you."

That actually caused Voldemort to stop and stiffen slightly. He quickly closed the rest of the distance between himself and Jasmine, taking the time to carefully look at her face. He used a single long, thin, bone-white finger under her chin to lift her head so he could look into her eyes. Even that small pressure was enough to elicit a low moan of pain, and the swelling along her jawline was impossible to miss.

"Indeed," he said softly. "We were sure that We had given strict instructions that she was not to be seriously harmed before the ritual. Afterwards, yes, she is to be taught a new understanding of pain and suffering; but not before. Who was responsible for this?"

When no sound came from the assembled Death Eaters, Jasmine took a chance and forced out in a low, moaning voice, "Luuusssisss."

Voldemort raised something that might have been an eyebrow had there been any hair at all on his body, but the implication was obvious. "Interesting." She wasn't sure if he meant the information itself, or the fact that she had the temerity to inform on a Death Eater at all. She wasn't given time to ponder that, though, because he quickly turned around and strode back into the group. Reaching down, he ripped off one mask, revealing Lucius Malfoy's frightened face.

"Do you have something to tell Us, Lucius?" he asked angrily.

"I... I... forgive me, my Lord, but I may have been too vigorous trying to teach the uppity witch her proper place," he said as he tried to lower himself to the ground.

Voldemort chuckled, then said, "No, Lucius, you simply couldn't wait to have the fun We promised you. It would not do for you to force Us to reconsider." He paused for a moment, then hissed, "Now fix this!"

Malfoy scrambled to his feet and rushed over to where Jasmine was hanging. With a quick incantation, her jaw was healed with a loud crack accompanied by a short scream of pain that was torn from her throat. He looked as though he was about to say something, but he was prevented by a loud _"_ _ **Crucio!**_ _"_ from behind and dropped to the ground, writhing and screaming in agony.

After a minute the torture curse was ended, and Jasmine was left staring in mute horror at the still-twitching body. The man was alive, but he looked like he would have preferred death. Two other Death Eaters rushed forward and dragged Malfoy back into the group while Voldemort stepped forward again. "Do note," he said to her, "that We actually **like** Lucius. He is one of Our most faithful and capable servants. He was instrumental in Our resurrection tonight. Imagine, then, what We shall do to **you** , one who has been the subject of Our anger for nearly fifteen years."

He stepped back a pace, and with a wave of his wand, Jasmine's bindings vanished. She fell painfully to the ground, and only with great effort was she able to rise to her hands and knees. She wanted to gag as she saw that she was surrounded by the leftover bones that had been drawn up out of the grave for the ritual.

"No, that's good right there," Voldemort commanded. "That's **exactly** where you belong, little witch, serving your betters on your hands and knees. You and all the blood traitors and mudbloods who pollute our world. Isn't that right?"

Jasmine could hear a chorus of cheering agreement from the Death Eaters a few meters away. She didn't want to think what sort of "service" she and others like her would be expected to provide. All she wanted was to get away, to run as far and as fast as she could, but even now that the haze of pain had diminished a little, she couldn't think of how she'd accomplish that. Even with a wand, she'd be hard-pressed to escape. Breathing quickly in panic, she realized that she wasn't even sure how well she'd be able to stand.

"Walking around in this graveyard seems to have soiled Our feet," he said with feigned casualness as he stuck out one bare, bone-white foot caked with the dirt of old graves. "Clean them. With your tongue." She could hear chuckles from the Death Eaters as she tried to pull away from him. Then she heard _"_ _ **Imperio!**_ _"_ and a feeling of calmness descended over her. Everything seemed right and proper.

When she once again heard the command to use her tongue to clean the dirty feet in front of her, it sounded like an excellent idea. _They are dirty, after all_ , she thought, _and why not use my tongue? What else is it for, but to use to serve my betters in whatever way they deem appropriate?_

As she closed the distance on her hands and knees, she heard a wailing voice in the back of her mind crying out, **"NO! DON'T!"** She hesitated, but the command to clean those feet came once more, this time with more power behind it. She resumed moving forward and leaned down to reach the proffered foot when the voice in the background came through even louder, **"THIS IS NOT YOU! THIS IS NOT WHAT YOU WANT!"**

Jasmine hesitated again and even pulled back some, but the command to lick those feet was repeated even more forcefully. This time, though, she was actively questioning it, and with a snap, the calm sensation disappeared. Jasmine realized that she had been put under the Imperius Curse and had broken it; in an act of defiance, she spat on the foot stuck out in front of her, adding her blood and saliva to the grave dirt already there.

Before she could look up and tell Voldemort what was on her mind, that same foot pulled back and lashed out, striking her in the chest so hard that it lifted her up off the ground and propelled her hard against the grave marker she had been tied to a few minutes earlier. Both impacts were accompanied by sharp cracks, and Jasmine didn't want to think about how much more had been broken in her battered body.

Looking up, she could see how large and heavy the marker was and saw the name "Tom Riddle" carved in thick letters across the top. Dimly, she thought she heard Voldemort call out, "Wormtail! Bring Us her wand." Then, after a pause, she heard, "Oh, yes, We forgot about that. Would you like your reward?"

"M-m-m-master, please," came a choked, sobbing response. As Jasmine rolled her head to face the other direction, she saw Pettigrew holding out his bleeding stump while Voldemort chanted a soft incantation over it. As she watched, a silvery metal wrist and hand grew up out of the stump, and Pettigrew's eyes shone in gratitude.

"Now, return her wand," Voldemort commanded. At the rat's questioning look, he continued, "It is time for us to duel. We were defeated when she was an infant, but it wasn't through any power or skill on her part. At best, it was because her mudblood mother discovered some ancient magic that We were unaware of. It is now time for the world to learn that this so-called 'Girl Who Lived' is neither more powerful nor more skilled than Us. Now move!"

Pettigrew scurried over to Jasmine's side and shoved her wand into her hand, then got away from her as fast as he could move. With the wand came a spark of renewed hope: she still had no idea how she was going to get out of this, but at least now there might be a chance. _As long as I can make it through the next few minutes…_ she thought grimly as she tried to rise, feeling things shift in her abdomen that she was certain weren't supposed to move. Pain was coming from so many different places that it was difficult to concentrate on anything else, but she grasped that one ray of hope and held on for all she was worth.

When she finally made it to her knees, a struggle that seemed to take several hours, she heard Voldemort say, "We'd suggest that the two of us bow, as is expected in formal duels between wizards, but We really don't think that a witch like you deserves such courtesy. So let's just begin, shall we?"

Before Jasmine could react, Voldemort incanted _"_ _ **Crucio!**_ _"_ and she felt pain unlike anything she had ever experienced before. She thought she'd been in serious pain earlier that evening, but none of it compared to what she was going through now. She'd have gladly taken all that she'd endured earlier and called it a lovely experience if someone would have stopped the hot knives that were stabbing across every inch of her body. Her muscles were convulsing, her nerves were on fire, and she was screaming so loudly that she was certain that her lungs would burst.

A short eternity later, the torture curse was ended, and she went limp on the ground, breathing heavily and twitching everywhere. Having just seen Malfoy go through the same thing a few minutes ago, she had a good idea of what she looked like, but she didn't care. Just then, she'd have done anything, used any magic, if it would have ensured that she never experienced that again. It hurt so much that she couldn't even cry.

In the distance, she could hear the Death Eaters laughing and cheering.

"Did you enjoy that?" Voldemort asked genially.

She began to realize that making through the next few minutes might not be possible even with her wand... and under the Cruciatus curse, might not be desirable, either. With that realization came an unexpected resolve, though. _I don't want him to have the satisfaction of torturing me into insanity... but if I'm going to die here_ , _I'm_ _ **not**_ _going to do it while lying passively on the ground,_ she promised herself while struggling to her knees.

"It was your first time, I believe, yes?" Voldemort continued. "It always hurts a bit the first time, or so I've been told; but I hear that it gets better. _**Crucio!**_ _"_

Once again she fell over on her side, convulsing in agony. Hot knives were stabbing over and over again without end. She completely lost all sense of time. It seemed to her that her entire existence had narrowed to the unimaginable torment she was enduring. Then, just as abruptly as it started, it stopped again, leaving her twitching and gasping on the ground.

She could hear the Death Eaters laughing, entertained by her screams and convulsing body. Resolve began turning to anger.

"How was that — better?" Voldemort asked. "I've been told that I have some skill in this area, and I assure you that this will become much more pleasurable. For one of us, at least." The last was said with a leer, but that leer fell away when Jasmine choked out her response.

"Don't... flatter yourself," she said as she panted and slowly got to her knees, then eased back so she was crouched on the balls of her feet. "Remember... I saw you... without your robe." She even tried to grin herself, though she figured that it probably came out more as a grimace. "I saw... what you're missing. ...Now everyone will call you… He-Who-Has-No-Balls."

The pain made it hard for her to talk, but Jasmine had used her slow, panting delivery to her advantage and gathered all her strength as she spoke. As soon as she pronounced the last words and the assembled Death Eaters gasped, she saw the look of fury pass across Voldemort's snake-like face. She threw herself backwards just as the green curse left his wand.

 _"_ _ **Avada Kedavra!**_ _"_

Had Jasmine not been so badly injured, she might have managed a halfway decent backwards somersault. As it was, she just flopped back a bit, but she managed to get out of the way of the curse before righting herself quickly enough to cast her own curse back at him: _"_ _ **Confringo!**_ _"_

Despite the dirt and rocks that had been kicked up by his killing curse, Voldemort had seen what she was doing and cast again immediately: _"_ _ **Avada Kedavra!**_ _"_

Before Jasmine could even think about diving away, the two curses connected, and instead of passing through each other, they hung together in mid-air, sending back tendrils of light to each of the two wands. Jasmine could feel her wand start to vibrate with power, and she had to grab it with both hands just to keep hold of it, let alone keep it steady. Voldemort didn't look like he was any better off, and although he had told his Death Eaters to stay back, he didn't act as though he'd planned for this.

Then the Dark Lord started looking worried when something like a golden cage began descending over them. It formed first on Voldemort's side, and Jasmine could see Death Eaters trying — but failing — to get through, despite their orders to not interfere. _Do I really want to be trapped in a magical cage with_ _ **him**_ _?_ she asked herself. _No, thank you! Just because he doesn't like it, doesn't mean it will help me._

Using all of her strength, she wrenched her wand away, breaking the connection with Voldemort's and releasing a burst of magical energy that dazzled her. Fortunately she had the presence of mind to dive behind a nearby grave marker. _Hopefully that blinded them as much as it did me_ , she thought, figuring that she'd have a minute or two of safety while she decided what to do next.

Mentally thanking Professor Flitwick for his wonderful foresight and vowing to find some sort of gift for him, she incanted _"Ossus Emendo"_ several times around her chest, trying to heal as many of her cracked ribs as she could. It was painful, easily as painful as when they were first broken; but soon she started feeling much better as it became easier to breathe and think.

"Potter!" she heard Voldemort call out, "It wasn't wise for you to anger Us. We don't want to kill you yet because We still have plans for you. The more difficult you make it for Us, the worse it will go for you. It's always possible to heal you and start over, after all."

Jasmine forced herself to regulate her breathing and not panic. _I'm alive and hidden_ , she thought, _which is at least something. But what now? I can't stand up and fight them all. If I run, they'll see me and cut me down. What can I do?_

" **Potter!** " Voldemort called out again, his frustration evident.

 _Maybe if I'm careful_ , she considered, _I can sneak from marker to marker until I can get out of this place? Wait, what about Dobby? Can he find me through the wards? Could he even get in here and get me out again?_ She shook her head, rejecting the idea. _I'm not going to try while there are Death Eaters all around — at best, he'll pop in and they'll kill him instantly. Maybe if I can get far enough away..._

"Remember, Potter," Voldemort said, suddenly sounding almost calm, "death is a release. It's a gift that We may choose not to grant you. Perhaps We will keep you alive while We see to the punishment of all your friends. Just imagine what We will do to your little pet mudblood as you watch. Just imagine the look in her eyes, because the entire time she'll know that it's only because of your defiance that she suffers so."

All the pain, fear, and even resolve she had been feeling were abruptly eclipsed by a red mist of fury. That fury overrode her sense of self-preservation, and she dove out towards a large grave marker to the left that she'd just been eyeing. Catching a flash of movement out of the corner of her eye, she no longer bothered with stealth and incanted, _"_ _ **Confringo!**_ _"_

Unbeknownst to her, Voldemort's talking had been mostly a distraction as his Death Eaters dispersed through the cemetery to hunt for her. One of them had gotten to within a few meters of the marker she'd first taken cover behind; caught completely by surprise, he took the explosive blasting hex at point-blank range in his chest. Had she not continued moving, she'd have seen that as a result, nothing was left of him above the waist — and what was left below the waist was on fire.

Unfortunately for Jasmine, her curse drew the attention of several Death Eaters. "Over there!" she heard at least one shout, and multiple curses struck the stone marker. Some had no effect, probably because they needed to hit a person to do anything; but the others were more general curses, causing parts of the marker to explode and sending pieces of stone cutting into her back and head. Once again she was forced to find new cover and tossed a few more spells in the direction of her attackers, just in case.

More than once, she heard screams of pain as her curses connected with someone, and each time that happened she couldn't help but grin as the pleasure of retribution won out over the fear that had been her constant companion all night. _Whatever happens, I'll take a few of you bastards with me._

Twice more she did this, and each time she noticed that the number of usable grave markers was dwindling. She counted herself lucky that the full moon kept slipping behind clouds, thus preventing the Death Eaters from seeing her clearly. Then she realized that some of the curses that the Death Eaters were firing weren't going anywhere close to her; they were, however, hitting the largest of the remaining stone markers and reducing them to rubble. _Eliminating what little cover is available to me_ , she concluded.

Risking a quick peek to see where her closest enemies might be, she was startled to see Lucius Malfoy just three or four meters away, looking in another direction. Not caring about how it would attract the attention of every Death Eater there, she immediately cast one of her favorites, _"_ _ **Sphaera Ignea!**_ _"_ Fueled by her rage, pain, and the humiliation she'd endured at his hands that evening, a fireball a full meter across sped out from her wand and smashed into the side of the black-robed wizard, lighting him up like a Roman candle.

His screams of agony attracted everyone's attention, just as she expected, but they were first and foremost concerned with stopping the magical fire that had engulfed their fellow Death Eater, giving Jasmine time to move in the other direction. She managed to get behind what she quickly discovered was the last marker in her vicinity that was large enough to provide usable cover. _I'm safe for the moment_ , she realized, _but I might as well erect a flashing neon sign saying "Girl Who Lived" with an arrow pointing at me._

In the distance, she could see lights that she vaguely remembered having seen before and suddenly wished very hard that there was something, anything, that she could do to get to them. Most of all, though, she wanted to get back to Hermione… to see Hermione, one last time. Taking as many Death Eaters down with her sounded great, but seeing Hermione again sounded better.

"Stop toying with her, you fools!" she heard Voldemort shout somewhere behind her and to her left. "Find her and bring her to Us! Alive! Or We'll have you crawling on the ground for the rest of your short and painful lives!"

Suddenly, Jasmine had a plan. It wasn't a great plan, she knew, since it had just been inspired by Voldemort, but it was a plan. _Assuming I haven't used too much magic already, it might even work_ , she thought.

Focusing this time not on her anger, but on her desire to get back to Hermione, she pointed her wand at herself, twirled it slightly, and tapped her forehead to cast the disillusionment charm, pushing as much magic into it as she could. She could actually feel her magic weaken as she experienced the standard sensation of having an egg broken on her head. After pausing to catch her breath and allow the charm to fully encompass her, she looked down and saw that she was no longer visible.

This was the first time she'd been able to cast it so well, though it was also the first time she'd been so desperate. She didn't know how long the charm would last, and she was starting to hear movement getting closer to her, so she scooted back from the marker and prepared herself to cast yet another unperfected spell with as much magic as she could without passing out from exhaustion.

Pushing her wand into the soft earth of the grave she was kneeling on, she whispered as loudly as she dared, _"_ _ **Terra Motus!**_ _"_ She held it for several seconds, and the results surprised even her as the sudden shaking of the ground soon caused her to tumble onto her side away from the marker. She immediately saw several Death Eaters who had gotten way too close, all of whom were trying to maintain their balance... and failing.

Voldemort's scream of fury followed quickly. Not waiting around to see what would happen next, she turned and started crawling away as fast as she could without making noise on the grassy ground. Even crawling was difficult, though, because that spell had drained her even more than the disillusionment charm. Both moving and thinking had become difficult again, and she worried that the potion they'd given her might still be affecting her.

Once the ground stopped shaking, she rose to a crouch and continued moving in the direction of the lights, regularly stumbling and hoping that neither Voldemort nor the Death Eaters would recognize those lights as an obvious destination for escape.

It was only a few minutes later that she realized just how exhausted she was. She didn't know if it was from a lack of food, lack of sleep, her injuries, an overuse of magic, or all of the above. It was taking all of the mental effort she could muster to keep going instead of just lying down and going to sleep.

For a long time, the lights she was heading towards didn't seem to be getting any closer, but finally, after what felt like hours of trying to run quietly while crouched, she realized that she was almost there. In a few minutes, she found herself standing in the street of a village. She had no idea where it was or what it was called, but the electric lights told her that it was muggle, at least.

She considered knocking on doors for help, but what could she possibly tell them? And how could she put unsuspecting muggles in danger by dragging them into her problems? The Death Eaters would blow up this entire place looking for her, that much was certain.

Suddenly a memory caught at her, and she tried to follow it. Blow up… blowing up Aunt Marge and then….

With a flick of her wrist, her wand shot out of the special holster which Neville had given to her as a Christmas gift. She faced the road and raised out her wand. With a loud **crack** , the Knight Bus appeared in front of her. It was that sound which finally broke through her haze of exhaustion, and she remembered that she'd thought about summoning Dobby to see if he was capable of carrying her; but when she saw the door to the bus open, she decided that this was good enough.

"Welcome to the Knight Bus, emergency transport service for stranded wizards and witches," came a familiar and welcome voice. "I'm Stan Shunpike, your conductor, and…."

His standard spiel cut off abruptly when he looked up and saw her, his mouth hanging open. _I guess I look pretty bad_ , she thought. She stumbled forward and managed to reach the steps of the bus before she collapsed from pain and exhaustion.

"Ern!" Stan called out. "C'mere! I recognize this witch!" The two wizards gently rolled Jasmine over and Stan exclaimed, "It's Jasmine Potter, it is!"

Jasmine opened her eyes and stretched out her hand. "Stan?" she asked weakly. "Dark wizards... torture…."

"Right," Stan said, "we'll take you direct to St. Mungo's, we will. They'll fix you up good."

"No!" she responded as forcefully as she could, which still wasn't much more than a harsh whisper. Grabbing his arm, she continued, "Hogwarts! Hermione! Dumbledore!"

"Are you sure?" he asked, sounding dubious.

"Yes!" she said as she started losing consciousness. "Safe. Hermione."

Stan nodded in understanding, though anyone who knew him would have realized that he didn't understand a thing. Still, it was his job to take stranded wizards and witches to wherever they wanted to go, and if she wanted to go to Hogwarts that badly, then that's where they'd take her.

He gently lifted her limp body into the bus and told Ernie to head directly to Hogwarts. It was a long trip and that shouldn't have been their first stop, but he felt it was the least he could do for her. The whole time he cradled her in his arms and wondered what sorts of wizards could inflict such horrible injuries on such a small, frail-looking girl.


	49. Behind Green Eyes

**A/N:** **Trigger warning!** Jasmine will now have to tell people about the abuse she experienced in the graveyard/ritual scene. This is less intense than the last chapter, but there are references to magical torture, physical abuse, threats of rape, and a bit more.

 **Recommendation:** This chapter's recommended fic is "...And Love" by apAiden. Hermione Granger is given one last chance to say the words she was too scared to say back in her first year. Will she be able to do it? H/Hr.

* * *

 **Chapter 49 - Behind Green Eyes**

 **Thursday, March 18, 1995, Very Early Morning.**

The Knight Bus arrived at Hogwarts much faster than normal thanks to its direct route. Once it stopped in front of the main gates, Stan walked out with Jasmine still in his arms. He stared up at the gates, not having expected to find them shut and locked. "'Ello?" he called out. "Is anyone there?"

A massive figure approached out of the darkness and quickly resolved itself into Hagrid, carrying his enormous crossbow and looking meaner than anyone had ever seen him. "Who are ye, there, and wha' do ye wan-" He stopped in mid-word when he saw the bundle being carried by Stan. "Jasmine!" he cried out.

Stan stumbled back in fear as Hagrid wrenched the heavy gate open with one of his huge, dustbin-lid-sized hands and he quickly tried to explain, "I'm the Knight Bus conductor, 'onest, and she called us in a village named... what was it again, Ern?" he called back in a slightly squeaky voice.

"Little Hangleton!" came the old driver's answer.

"Yes, that's right, Little Hangleton! She insisted that we come straight 'ere, not to St. Mungo's! And 'ere we are!"

Hagrid's face softened just a bit as he listened to the young wizard's story. "Wha' do I owe ye for tha trip?" he asked gruffly.

"Nothin'!" Stan answered, happy that it no longer looked like he was about to be squashed. "It was the least we could do. She's the Girl Who Lived, y'know! She even remembered my name!"

Hagrid nodded and said, "Thanks ta both of ye. I'll be sure ta let tha headmaster know how helpful ye were." He reached down and carefully took Jasmine from Stan's arms. Relieved of his burden, he tipped his cap to the half-giant and jumped back into the bus, which disappeared with a **crack**.

"Oh, Jasmine," Hagrid said softly as his long gait quickly ate up the distance to the castle's main door, "Wha' happened to ye? Who did this to ye?"

Unexpectedly, Jasmine opened her eyes. "Hagrid?" she asked in a weak, tired voice that he had to strain to hear. "Voldemort. Ritual. Resurrection." Then, just as suddenly, she closed her eyes and was unconscious again.

"Tha's bad news, tha' is," Hagrid muttered. "Let's get ye ta Madam Pomfrey, then I'll go tell Dumbledore wha' ye said. He'll know wha' ta do,"

* * *

The hospital wing was empty, which was fortunate because Hagrid's bellow as he came through the door would have surely woken anyone there. It certainly roused Madam Pomfrey, who charged into the main patient area ready to tear strips off of whoever was shouting. It was only the sight of Jasmine Potter — bloody, bruised, and draped limply in Hagrid's arms — that stayed her wrath.

"Finally," she said, "she's been found! Bring her over here, quickly now. What do you know about what happened to her?"

"Nothin'," Hagrid replied. When she scowled at him, he hastily added, "She was just brought in on the Knight Bus, and they didn't know nothin' neither."

She harrumphed and began casting diagnostic spells to determine what was wrong with the young witch and what needed to be addressed first.

"I need ta tell Dumbledore," Hagrid informed the school healer, who merely nodded as she concentrated on her patient. In a moment he was gone, and Pomfrey began to catalog all the different things that her spells could find wrong.

"Confusing Draught... blunt force trauma to the face and abdomen... the _Cruciatus_ curse!" She almost shouted the last, she was so upset. "What sort of monsters would cast that on a child!" With practiced movements she forced several potions down Jasmine's throat then began casting a series of spells on the witch and the bed that she hoped would help with her healing and pain.

Not long into her spellwork she was interrupted as several people entered her hospital. Albus Dumbledore and Minerva McGonagall she expected, but the presence of Cornelius Fudge and Amelia Bones was enough of a surprise that she had to start one of her healing spells over.

"It's not possible, Dumbledore," she could hear Fudge ranting, "I tell you, it's just not possible. You-Know-  
Who simply cannot be alive. He was killed years ago. He's gone. Gone!"

"Patience, Cornelius," Dumbledore responded calmly, "We will soon find out what happened to her, and then we can judge what the truth is."

Neither of the two witches appeared to be interested in the argument; instead, they were entirely focused on Miss Potter, something that Pomfrey approved of. "What is her condition?" Madam Bones asked, preempting another round of quarreling between the two headstrong wizards.

"It's not good," Pomfrey reported, "but she will get better, that much is certain."

"Can you tell us what happened to her?" Bones asked.

"Yes — the time since her injuries has been short enough that I can still get clear results on what she experienced," Pomfrey said, "although the exact order of the events isn't entirely clear."

"That's fine," Bones responded, waving that issue away, "just give us a list of what you do know and in the order you think most likely."

Madam Pomfrey picked up the parchment that had recorded the unconscious witch's most recent medical scan, noting that all four of the newcomers were watching her intently. "First, she was given at least one if not two doses of Confusing Draught, the effects of which should have lasted from shortly after she went missing until several hours ago."

"So she might not be able to tell us much about where she was or what was happening?" suggested McGonagall.

"Not until a bit after it wore off, no," agreed Bones. "Please continue."

"Around the time the potion wore off, or maybe shortly thereafter, she was subjected to severe blunt force trauma to the head, face, and abdomen. I picked up evidence of a moderate concussion, a broken jaw, some broken teeth, and several cracked ribs. All but the concussion and teeth have been healed, although not very well and not by a healer. The healing spells were rough, not practiced."

"Bludgeoning hexes?" Bones asked.

"In a couple of cases, yes," Pomfrey answered, "but not in all. I suspect she was beaten physically, and more than once." All four adults winced in pain at that.

"Anything else?" Dumbledore prompted, seeming to recognize the healer's reluctance to continue.

"Yes," she said heavily. "I'm afraid... well, she was put under the _Cruciatus_ curse. Twice, and for an extended period of time in both instances, judging by the extent of the damage and the amount of Dark Magic residue I'm seeing."

This news elicited several shocked gasps and Dumbledore closed his eyes in obvious distress.

"You're certain about that?" Fudge asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

"I'd stake my Healer's Certificate on it," Pomfrey answered grimly. "The signs of even a poorly cast _Cruciatus_ are always clear. In Miss Potter's case, the residue and damage are consistent with either a very strong wizard putting her under two or possibly three times for several minutes each, or multiple moderately strong wizards doing it several times. Because I can only discern the magical signature of four people in total, though, I think the former is almost certain."

"Four people?" Bones asked.

Pomfrey nodded. "One of those signatures is Miss Potter herself. I'd guess the healing spells, though I never taught her any. Another is mostly faded away and doesn't seem to be linked to any damage. Two more are recent, and only one looks connected to much damage — that's the one which I think is responsible for the _Cruciatus_ curse."

"Could you put this all in an official medical report and sign it?" Bones asked.

"Of course," the healer responded.

"Can we wake Miss Potter to get her version of events?" Dumbledore asked.

Madam Pomfrey frowned. "I wouldn't recommend it. Even without the _Cruciatus_ curse exposure, she needs rest. She's almost completely magically exhausted, suffering from some blood loss, and has deep bruising all over her body."

"I don't like it," Madam Bones interjected, "but unless waking her will cause more harm, we really do need to get her testimony so we can catch whoever did this. The longer we wait, the more time they have to get away."

"Very well," Pomfrey said, "but not for any longer than absolutely necessary. As it is, she'll need to be in here for at least forty-eight hours." She administered another potion which caused the young witch to begin to stir and then moved aside, though not too far away.

* * *

Jasmine slowly rose to consciousness and immediately wondered just how often this was going to happen to her. Thankful that she seemed to have her wits about her this time, she began a mental checklist to determine her situation. _Good news_ , she thought, _is that everything seems to be present and working; bad news, everything hurts so bad that I want to cry._

Not knowing how much time she might have, she focused on the sounds that were starting to become clear around her. There were a couple of voices from either side of her, one of which sounded familiar and seemed to be arguing that Voldemort couldn't possibly be back. _OK, not Death Eater Central, then_ , she concluded with more than a little relief. _But not necessarily a friendly audience, either._

"Miss Potter," came a soft, kindly voice that she immediately recognized as belonging to the Headmaster. "I know you're awake. I also know that you must be in significant pain. I'm very sorry to force this upon you, my dear girl, but we need to get some questions answered before we can let you sleep again. I promise we'll get through this as quickly as possible."

Reluctantly, she opened her eyes and blinked hard at the brightness around her. "Sorry," she heard Madam Pomfrey say as the lights quickly dimmed. Professor Dumbledore was sitting next to her bed, looking very tired and sad, but before she could say anything she suddenly convulsed from the pain. Crying out, she rolled away from the headmaster and vomited onto the floor on the other side of her bed.

"I don't know how much help she'll be," Pomfrey said as she rushed over and vanished the sick on the floor. "She's going to be in severe pain for several days at least."

"There's nothing you can give her?" the familiar voice she heard before asked. Whoever it was, she now knew it was a man, and he was on the opposite side of her bed from Dumbledore.

"No, that's one of the reasons why the _Cruciatus_ curse is an unforgivable," a new female voice responded. "It has no treatment. Not even standard pain potions will help. Victims are forced to endure the aftereffects for however long they last, whether it's hours or days. Pain, convulsions, nausea, and more. The faster we can do this, the better for her it will be."

 _Oh, great_ , Jasmine thought sourly. _That's all I needed to hear..._

Suddenly there were hands and arms around her shoulders, attempting to help her up, and she hissed in pain, trying to hold back a scream as she struggled to twist away. "No!" Pomfrey said sharply. "Don't touch her unless you have to!"

"What is it? Why not?" Jasmine heard a voice she recognized as Professor McGonagall ask as she curled into a fetal position, facing away from her and Dumbledore while she quivered in agony.

"With exposure this bad, almost any touch is excruciating and will be for a while," Pomfrey answered. "All her nerves are raw and over-sensitized. She'll need low light, the blandest of food, low sound levels, and as little touching as possible. I've already cast special charms on the bed and her hospital gown to reduce the sensations she receives."

"I had no idea," came the previously familiar voice. Jasmine started to open her eyes again, and once she could focus, she thought she recognized the shape of Minister Fudge. Without her glasses, though, she couldn't be sure.

"It's not widely known," Pomfrey explained, "because it's so rare for anyone to get such a massive exposure and live."

"Miss Potter," came the unknown woman's voice, "my name is Amelia Bones. I'm head of the DMLE, the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Would you be willing to answer a few questions?" she asked kindly.

Jasmine nodded carefully. _Bones?_ she thought. _I remember a Bones. That's Susan's aunt. McGonagall said good things about her._

"Bones?" Jasmine asked. "Susan?"

"Yes," came the pleased reply, "Susan is my niece, and she contacted me as soon as she heard you were missing. She seems to think very highly of you." A ghost of a smile crossed Jasmine's features at that.

"Now, do you know where you were taken to when you were kidnapped?" Madam Bones asked.

Jasmine shook her head. "Stone floor, couldn't move," she said.

"According to Hagrid, the conductor of the Knight Bus said he picked you up in Little Hangleton," Dumbledore interjected. "Does that name sound familiar?"

Jasmine shook her head, and Bones called out, "Shacklebolt, make a note to interview that conductor."

"Shunpike," Jasmine said softly.

"Got that?" the woman asked, and Jasmine heard a murmured response from somewhere behind her, where Dumbledore was sitting. "What's the first thing you remember clearly?" she then asked Jasmine.

The auburn-haired witch thought hard for a few moments, trying to clear the cobwebs so she could focus on memories that all seemed disjointed for some reason. "Picked up from floor... hit or something, then nothing. Later, at night, I woke up tied to a grave marker in a cemetery."

Jasmine took a few deep breaths to get the pain under control again. She didn't want to look weak. She didn't want to let her agony show through, at least not any more than was necessary. That was one thing she had learned from the Dursleys: never let them know just how much pain you're in.

She wasn't sure if it was the _Cruciatus_ curse itself or if her screams had damaged her throat, but talking hurt, and she couldn't keep her voice from coming out raspy. "One man working on a huge cauldron and two men nearby. One... one... he…." Her voice trailed off into sobs. After a moment, she managed to choke back the humiliation enough to get out, "He grabbed me."

"Grabbed you how?" Fudge asked.

When Jasmine closed her eyes and tried to curl in on herself even further, unable to maintain her facade of strength any longer, Madam Bones cleared her throat and said, "I think maybe we'll return to that question and get more details when there aren't so many people in the room." After a pause, she added in a no-nonsense tone of voice, "And when there are no **wizards** in the room, either."

Jasmine could hear people shifting uncomfortably in their seats before Madam Bones spoke again, this time in a softer voice and from a much closer distance. "It's alright, dear, we'll get back to that later when you feel more comfortable. What happened next?"

After taking a few deep breaths, Jasmine opened her eyes and continued, "I think I was punched and knocked out again. I woke up later, when the moon was higher in the sky."

"Do you think you can estimate how high the moon was?" Bones suddenly asked. When Jasmine nodded, she said, "Good, we might be able to get approximate times from that. Please continue."

Jasmine proceeded to explain what happened with as much detail as she could remember. When she was done, she could clearly hear Minister Fudge muttering that "You-Know-Who couldn't possibly be back" and about "conspiracies to undermine confidence in the Ministry." Jasmine's stomach gave a lurch, and it wasn't her previous nausea returning.

She remembered that this was the same Minister of Magic who had refused to believe her about Sirius and wanted to subject her godfather to a summary execution without his ever once having been put on trial, insisting that she and her friends had been confunded before dismissing their testimony. She remembered that he had arrested Hagrid simply so he could be seen to be doing something. She also remembered what Professor McGonagall had said about him: that what he cared most about was keeping his power and looking good.

So long as he perceived that the truth was against his personal interests, he'd deny her testimony about Voldemort — especially if Malfoy were still alive and able to poison him against her. This meant that Jasmine needed for him to see that helping her counted as "doing something" and would make him look good, without contradicting how he saw the world. At least, not too much.

Thinking quickly, she propped herself up painfully on one elbow. "Minister?" she asked in a soft yet determined voice. She instantly had everyone's attention. "I was only a baby during the war that killed my parents, so I obviously wouldn't recognize Vol... er, You-Know-Who's face if I ran into him on the street."

When she saw she had his interest, she continued, "So I can't say that I recognized the face of the dark wizard who climbed out of that cauldron. All I can tell you is what he claimed about himself." Fudge slowly nodded, seeming to understand what she was getting at. She wanted to slap him for being so venal and corrupt, but she bit back her anger and resolved to revisit this at a later date — maybe as part of a discussion with Hermione about why it wasn't worth staying in the magical world.

"Minister," she continued, "I was kidnapped by dark wizards. I was beaten by dark wizards. I was... I was molested by dark wizards." Everyone winced at hearing her state aloud what they had been trying to step gingerly around earlier. She hated saying it, because saying it made it so much more real, but it seemed like it was a price she'd have to pay to get enough sympathy to put him on her side.

"Finally, I was tortured and nearly killed by dark wizards. Does it really matter what the real name of one of them is?" _Especially since Voldemort isn't actually his real name anyway_ , she added silently. _Now there's an idea... I wonder what would happen if the DMLE started hunting for a dark wizard named Tom Riddle?_

"She's absolutely right," Madam Bones said, stepping back into the conversation. "Serious crimes were committed here, there's no question about that. The _Cruciatus_ curse alone will put someone in Azkaban for life, never mind all the rest. You don't want the press to find out that you didn't take this seriously and refused to investigate. You don't want the press to report that you allowed dark wizards to get away with molesting and torturing the Girl Who Lived, do you?"

Fudge paled considerably at that. "N-n-no, no, of course not! Never!" he stuttered out. "Of course this must be investigated. Use whatever resources you need!" He paused to catch his breath, then added, "But I don't want anyone inflaming the public with nonsensical stories about You-Know-Who coming back to life, do you hear me?"

Madam Bones nodded and said, "I will limit myself to where the evidence leads. It matters not whether it was some delusional wizard who thinks he's You-Know-Who, an old follower of his who is trying to bring him back, or — Merlin forbid — an actual resurrection of the Dark Lord. The investigation and procedures will be the same." Fudge didn't look entirely happy with that, but he accepted it anyway.

Shoving his lime green bowler down on his head, he announced, "I'd better be off. I'll leave you to it. I want daily updates on the investigations, Amelia. Daily updates!"

Once he was gone, escorted by Dumbledore, Jasmine laid back down on her side and Madam Bones let out a long sigh of relief. "I just hope he holds onto that attitude, otherwise he may try to undermine our investigation."

"That will probably depend on whose advice he listens to most," McGonagall said. "Albus', or…."

"Malfoy's," Bones finished for her. When Jasmine started snickering, she asked, "What's so funny, Miss Potter?"

"That wizard I hit with a fireball?" she asked. When Bones nodded and indicated for her to go on, she continued, "That was Lucius Malfoy." She heard deep chuckling from behind her; craning her neck, she saw a tall, black, balding man in auror's robes writing on a piece of parchment.

"Which spell did you use?" McGonagall asked.

" _Sphaera Ignea_ ," Jasmine replied.

Madam Bones blinked in surprise. "Well, that'll leave a mark — assuming he survived. The scars it creates aren't quite cursed, but they are close. It might help to place him at the scene and allow me to arrest him. That's also a very powerful spell, Miss Potter — I'm surprised you could cast it."

"She could cast a corporeal patronus already at the end of her third year," McGonagall said, sounding every bit like a proud parent. "She used it to chase off the dementors that were here guarding the castle from Sirius Black."

"How many?" Bones asked.

"All of them, I believe," McGonagall deadpanned.

Jasmine heard a low whistle from the auror, presumably the one called Shacklebolt. "Very impressive," he said in a deep, resonant voice. "Most adult witches and wizards cannot even cast a corporeal patronus, much less use it to fight off dementors."

"Indeed," Madam Bones agreed, now even more impressed with the young witch than she had been previously. "Let's finish this interview, then Miss Potter can get the rest she needs." Auror Shacklebolt quietly excused himself and walked over to the doors to stand guard.

Over the course of the next hour, Jasmine retold her story twice, answering numerous questions about the events she could remember. They even spent a bit of time talking about Sirius Black: once Jasmine revealed that the Death Eater who sacrificed his hand was Peter Pettigrew, Bones opened a whole new investigation, albeit one that would be kept as secret as possible given the Minister's past attitudes and actions on the matter.

* * *

After the interview was finished, Madam Bones took Professor McGonagall over to Madam Pomfrey's desk so she could speak with the other two witches with a little privacy. "You two know Miss Potter best," she began, "What can you tell me about her state of mind, both before and now?"

"What do you mean?" Madam Pomfrey asked with a frown.

"Has she ever been given to telling tales or attention-seeking behavior? Is she rash and impulsive? How does her current mindset compare to normal?

McGonagall huffed and said, "She's never been anything like that!"

Pomfrey agreed, saying, "In fact, from what I've seen she does all she can to **avoid** attention."

"Exactly," McGonagall said. "She absolutely hates her fame and would do anything to be rid of it. It offends her that others fawn over her because of something that killed her parents, forcing her to grow up as an orphan. And from what I understand, it wasn't a happy childhood." When Madam Bones was finished writing that down, McGonagall continued, "Now as to being rash and impulsive, I'm afraid that's been true at times — she is in Gryffindor, after all," she added with a rueful twitch of her lips. "However, in my experience it's usually when adults fail to act in a situation where she thinks she knows best."

"So you're saying that she'll go to an adult for help first, but act on her own if adults don't help?" Bones asked.

McGonagall pause for a moment, then said slowly, "In the past, yes. Recently I've been made aware of the fact that she's become disillusioned with the adults in her life. Myself included, to my great regret. As a consequence, I suspect that her willingness to trust adults has dropped considerably, and it was never all that high to begin with."

Bones' eyebrows went up in curiosity, wondering what might lie behind such a statement. "It sounds like you have a few interesting stories that I should hear."

"Perhaps," McGonagall conceded, "but she should be there. They are her stories, after all."

Bones nodded and made a note to revisit this, assuming she could make the time in the near future. She had a feeling that she was going to be very, very busy.

Just as she was asking Pomfrey for an official copy of the medical report, the doors to the hospital wing burst open, and a frizzy brown blur rocketed across the room. Shacklebolt tried to grab whoever it was, but they were moving far too fast and launched themselves straight into Jasmine's bed, where she was now on her back.

"Jasmine!" came the strangled, sobbing voice as a witch with bushy brown hair seemed to burrow herself as deeply as possible into Miss Potter's side, her head buried in Miss Potter's shoulder.

Madam Pomfrey gasped in shock and moved to separate the two, but McGonagall grabbed her arm firmly and held her back. "But the pain she'll be in!" Pomfrey hissed.

"No, wait," McGonagall said, watching the pair expectantly. So three witches and one wizard watched in amazement as the newcomer wrapped the injured witch in a bear hug that looked like it would have crushed most normal humans. Instead of screaming in pain, however, Jasmine Potter simply returned the hug and sobbed softly along with her.

"But…" Pomfrey tried to say, "Miss Potter should be in agony right now."

"She looks like she's comfortable and relaxed for the first time since we got here," Madam Bones observed.

McGonagall nodded. "That's Hermione Granger, Miss Potter's best friend. They've been through everything together, and it was Miss Granger who originally alerted us to Miss Potter's disappearance."

"Ah," Bones responded. "So she's the one Mad-Eye has to thank for Dumbledore finding him in time. Even an hour later and those curses would have settled in enough that there would have been no way to treat him."

"Will he be alright, then?" Pomfrey asked.

"Ehh," Bones said noncommittally. "The healers won't say exactly, but they are optimistic that he should mostly recover. It will be a bit before we know how much." After another moment studying the two younger witches, Bones said, "I'm done here, at least for now. I'll leave Shack to watch over Miss Potter. He and someone else will switch off providing guard duty for her until she's released from the hospital wing. If I need more information, I'll let you know so we can schedule a time, OK?"

* * *

"I know it's against the rules, Poppy, but I recommend letting Miss Granger stay," McGonagall said once Bones had left and the hospital wing was quiet again. The only sound was the soft murmuring coming from Jasmine Potter's bed.

Poppy Pomfrey sighed and said, "I was thinking about doing that anyway. I suppose I won't have to put Miss Potter back to sleep, too. I did let Miss Potter stay long past curfew when Miss Granger was petrified, so I might as well let Miss Granger return the favor now."

"Really?" McGonagall asked, surprised.

Pomfrey nodded with a slight smile on her lips. "Oh, yes, and she never realized that I knew she was there. She thought she was being so clever, doing something to make herself invisible the entire time; but students never know about the pressure charms on these beds that tell me when a patient wakes, when they get up, when they get into bed... and when someone else is in bed with them."

"Oh?" McGonagall asked, her eyebrows climbing.

"No, not like they are now," she answered with a dismissive wave, "but Miss Potter normally leaned down heavily on Miss Granger's bed — sometimes even putting her head down and sleeping herself, judging by the snoring. Naturally, my charms registered the weight change, and I knew it was her."

After a moment of silence, Pomfrey continued, "Despite all that, though, I never realized they were so close." McGonagall simply nodded, not wanting to risk giving anything away.

Pomfrey looked at McGonagall out of the corner of her eye, guessing that there was more going on which the older witch knew about. She didn't ask, though, because whatever was really going on only seemed to be helping her patient. She knew from her experiences in the war that _Cruciatus_ victims took a while to recover, but Miss Potter was already looking a lot better — better than the healer would have expected even with a couple of days of bedrest.

After a few minutes she turned down the lights in the main patient area almost to nothing, then fixed some tea for herself and Minerva. She had the feeling that her colleague didn't intend to leave her lionesses alone, not even with her.

* * *

Jasmine and Hermione lay cuddled against one another, each reveling in the other's warmth and presence. Both had been desperate and afraid, not knowing what the future would bring and scared that they wouldn't see the other again. Now that they were together, though, they didn't want to let go.

"I won't ask you what happened," Hermione said eventually, "Not yet, at least. I will want to know, but I'll give you some time, OK?"

"Thanks," Jasmine whispered in relief.

"What do you want to know?" Hermione asked. "I'm sure you have all kinds of questions."

"When is it?" Jasmine asked. "How long have I been gone?"

"They haven't even told you yet?" Hermione fumed. "It's early Thursday morning. Like, 3AM early."

They were both quiet for a moment before Hermione continued, "You were taken late Tuesday afternoon. Do you remember Tuesday?"

Jasmine thought about that, then concluded, "Not so much, no. What happened?"

"It was Moody," Hermione said. "Except not really. It turns out the real Mad-Eye Moody had been captured by an escaped Death Eater that everyone thought was dead. Kept the poor man locked up in an enlarged room in his own trunk, if you can believe it! Kept him alive for his hair to brew polyjuice."

"All year?" Jasmine asked incredulously. "Yet another Defense teacher wanted me dead, this time a Death Eater, and Dumbledore never noticed?"

"Apparently not," Hermione said dryly. "I heard that he cast some slow-acting dark curses on Moody before abducting you after our class on Tuesday. Once I knew you weren't in the castle, I raised the alarm, and I think they managed to find Moody in time before the curses settled in completely."

"Is that it?" Jasmine asked.

"Well, that and I've been a complete wreck ever since I realized you were gone," Hermione said. "I haven't been able to eat, sleep, do anything, really..." Hermione sighed. "When you were gone, it was like I couldn't function. I've never felt like that before, and that scared me almost as much as your absence did. Eventually, once I calmed down from my initial panic, it occurred to me to send Dobby and Winky after you; but when I asked, they said they couldn't find you. They thought that there was dark magic or something blocking you. It really upset them. So I told them to check every couple of hours, and a few minutes ago Dobby told me you were back."

Jasmine gave her girlfriend a quick squeeze and leaned over to kiss the top of her head. "I love you, Hermione," she whispered. "I was afraid I wouldn't get a chance to tell you."

Hermione pulled her head back so she could look into Jasmine's green eyes. Smiling, she said, "I love you, too, Jasmine."

* * *

 **Thursday, March 18, 1995, Early Morning.**

Albus Dumbledore sat alone in his office, pondering recent events while sipping a cup of very, very strong coffee. He preferred tea normally, but right now he desperately needed the caffeine just to stay awake, let alone think coherently. Fawkes, the lucky bird, was snoring on the perch in the corner. Dumbledore was certain that birds couldn't actually snore and that Fawkes just did it to annoy him, but he hadn't figured out how to prove it yet.

The primary subject of all his thinking right now wasn't the sleeping habits of phoenixes, though, it was Jasmine Potter. When she had turned up missing thirty-six hours earlier, he was certain that it was part of the plan of whomever had entered her name into the Triwizard Tournament. This had been why he had insisted that she compete, removing any hints that champions had a right to withdraw within seventy-two hours from being named if they wanted. Only her participation in the tournament gave him a chance of drawing out the culprit and catching them.

 _Except I didn't catch them, did I?_ he thought reproachfully. _I was expecting the culprit to make their move later in the term, so I wasn't paying close enough attention and he removed her from the castle. My school! Right under my nose! And wherever she was taken, she was held under such protections that even the blood tracking devices couldn't find her. Not even Fawkes could locate her, and I didn't think that was possible._ It had been years since he was last that angry, and it was made all the worse that he had no other target for his anger but himself. Then, to top it all off, Moody had laid into him — even as the healers were working on him in his sickbed! — for not being able to tell that his "old friend" had really been a Death Eater on polyjuice.

 _I'll never be able to live that embarrassment down — Alastor will certainly see to that_ , he thought ruefully.

So in the final analysis, it looked like he'd put young Miss Potter in danger for nothing. His purpose had been good and his reasoning had been sound, but he'd failed so completely that it had all been for nothing — and she was the one who had paid the price. **She** was the one who had suffered, not him.

And what a price she'd paid. He had been ecstatic when Hagrid had burst into their meeting to tell him about Miss Potter being brought to the castle. He might have wished for a more private notification so he could find an excuse to get rid of Amelia and Cornelius, but Hagrid had been so excited that Dumbledore could hardly fault the poor man. When they had arrived at the hospital wing, though, he nearly wept when he saw her broken body lying on the bed. And then to watch her writhe in pain, simply from the aftereffects of the _Cruciatus_ curse!

Even if she hadn't identified her attackers, that alone would have told him that Voldemort had regained his body. Gellert and Bellatrix were the only other people he knew who could cast a _Cruciatus_ like that, and he'd have been notified if they had escaped their prisons. Of course, he had placed a couple of floo calls to check anyway, just to be sure.

Yet despite her state, Miss Potter had rallied and handled the Minister with a degree of political savvy he would not have credited her with. He of course had immediately recognized what direction the Minister was leading himself in with his muttered complaints about disloyalty and inciting panic, but he lacked any means for redirecting the man's thoughts — his mind had already been too poisoned by the likes of Lucius Malfoy.

Miss Potter, though, hit upon a truly inspired solution: focus on the crime, not the criminal. _Cornelius can continue to deny the truth until he's blue in the face, but unless he wants a scandal over mistreating the Girl Who Lived, he has to allow the investigation to go forward. It's not ideal_ , he conceded, _because the Ministry isn't preparing itself the way it should be, but it's better than nothing — and nothing is exactly where we were headed until Miss Potter spoke up. I suppose I should contact my allies on the Wizengamot and in the Ministry to warn them to keep a careful eye on Cornelius, just in case he tries something anyway. And maybe Madam Bones can be persuaded to initiate some preparations, in secret if necessary._

It shamed him a little that a fourteen-year-old witch who hadn't even taken her OWLs yet had succeeded so handily where he was floundering — and not for the first time, either. _If this, too, is the consequence of Miss Granger's influence, then perhaps I was too hasty in my decision to try to separate them_ , he realized. _I may not find her influence to be entirely to my liking, but it's usually the results that are most important, not the means. I'll just have to keep an eye on Miss Potter to ensure that her problems with anger don't get any worse._

It seemed likely that he'd been making quite a few mistakes recently, more than he'd care to admit; and many probably centered around Jasmine Potter to one degree or another. It was something he'd have to think about. When time permitted.

Dumbledore sighed and sipped some more of his coffee, his blue eyes dull from exhaustion and worry, and he wondered how he was going to make it through the rest of the day. He hadn't been able to get any of his regular work done while dealing with the missing Miss Potter, and now he needed to start up the Order of the Phoenix again.

 _We need to begin working against Tom, but he's regained a body much sooner than I had anticipated. I'm not nearly as prepared as I'd like to be. I'll be on my knees for half the day trying to contact members of the old crowd who can still help_ , he lamented. _Then I need to identify some trustworthy younger people who can contribute as well. We'll also need a secure place to meet…. Hmm, I wonder if I should try getting in touch with Sirius Black? He'll be anxious to help his goddaughter, and he might have access to a Black family property which we can use._

Dumbledore took another sip of the hot, bitter drink as his thoughts returned to Jasmine Potter. _Should I start training her?_ he wondered. _I had hoped to give her more time to enjoy her youth. Once she starts, there will be no going back. Once you start learning the more dangerous spells needed for combat, you lose your innocence, and nothing is ever the same. Then again, it's arguable that she's already started — and under the guidance of Miss Granger. Without her help over this past year, I suspect that Miss Potter wouldn't have known enough to escape alive. I was definitely wrong in trying to separate them; instead, I should probably try to keep them together… provided I can reign in their more violent impulses._

 _As for other kinds of training, it's definitely too soon to introduce her to members of the Wizengamot and Ministry,_ he decided. _Then there's the prophecy…. I expect Tom will want it as soon as possible, so it must be protected. Miss Potter will need to be informed about it, but when?_

One thing was certain, though: she'd have to be kept safe this summer. He may have made some mistakes with her, including providing inadequate protection in the castle this year, but he wouldn't fail to ensure her safety with her family after term ended. Not with Voldemort running around in a new body now. He'd ensure her protection, whatever it took.

Off in the corner, the portrait of Phineas Nigellus Black "awoke" from his feigned sleep and quietly slipped out of his frame. It seemed to him that he wouldn't miss anything significant if he left at this point, and he had an important report to make at #12 Grimmauld Place.


	50. Mama Said Knock You Out

**A/N:** I really, really like the title to this chapter. It's just so... _fitting._

 **Recommendation** : This chapter's recommended fic is "The Curse That Killed Thousands" by ga1661. Sirius' appearance in the hospital wing when Harry returns after the third task does not go very well, leading to massive and unexpected changes — all thanks to the quick thinking of Hermione Granger. H/Hr.

* * *

 **Chapter 50 - Mama Said Knock You Out**

 **Saturday, March 20, 1995, Early Afternoon.**

Jasmine wasn't let out of the hospital wing until Saturday morning, and for once she had actually been glad to spend so much time there. The cumulative effects of the torture, taunting, and molestation had taken a significant toll on her, both psychologically and emotionally, and while she welcomed Hermione's close presence, she had needed time before she was prepared to face anyone else. Luckily Madam Pomfrey had kept everyone else away.

Truth be told, she wasn't sure that Saturday after lunch wasn't too soon to tell people what had happened to her, but she knew that she had to do it at some point and decided to treat it like a sticking plaster: rip it off fast to get it over with. If nothing else, it would at least cross one thing off of Hermione's "Worry about Jasmine" list. _I'm not even sure that facing dark wizards in a cemetery at night wouldn't be easier_ , she lamented. _I was certainly less nervous the night before going up against a dragon!_

The arrangements had been surprisingly difficult to make. Despite the fact that the vast majority of her torture had taken place outside, Jasmine was feeling decidedly uncomfortable in enclosed spaces. Hermione hypothesized that Jasmine was still struggling with a "fight or flight" response, and since there was no one to fight, she wanted to flee, a prospect which was blocked by the heavy stone walls in the castle. Therefore, she wanted to be outside where she subconsciously knew she had more opportunities to get away from any danger.

Jasmine barely understood half of all that; all she knew was that once she was out of the hospital wing, she only really felt comfortable outside, so Hermione went above and beyond by getting everyone to agree on a time to meet out by the Black Lake. Somehow, she had found a secluded spot where some large boulders would protect them from casual observation. Dobby and Winky promised to provide security against eavesdropping — after not being able to find her when she was kidnapped, they were going out of their way to be protective and helpful. She had had to endure a lot of tears and wailing before they agreed not to follow her around constantly.

Everyone — which included their closest Gryffindor friends, the other champions, and the study group — was going to arrive separately and wait to hear from Jasmine. Once she learned about the size of the group she'd be meeting, Jasmine was set to grab her Firebolt and make a speed run for the channel, perhaps to disappear somewhere in the Alps eventually; but Hermione practically sat on her and explained why all of them needed to hear her story. Hermione knew about how Jasmine had tricked the Minister and so knew that it was important to start getting the word out to select, trusted people. That didn't make Jasmine any happier about the prospect, though.

Hermione, Merlin bless her heart, even went so far as to create an outline and note cards for Jasmine to use while speaking. She hadn't the heart to tell her that there was no way she'd use such things, but by this point Jasmine had realized that Hermione was mostly just making busy work in order to distract herself from thinking about what had happened to her girlfriend. _I swear, though, if I even catch a hint of her trying to create charts or diagrams to go along with this_ , _I'm going to put her in a full bodybind!_

* * *

Jasmine and Hermione were the last to arrive. She wasn't comfortable with any part of this — not with telling others about what had happened to her, not with answering questions about being tortured, and not with speaking in front of a group — but if she was going to do it, then she wanted to keep it as short as possible. That meant not sitting around, fidgeting and being stared at, while waiting for the rest of the group to arrive. For her, at least, the meeting was to start when she arrived and end when she left — those were her unalterable conditions for participating.

Anticipation and worry were thick in the air. Rumors about what had happened had been flying around Hogwarts for the past few days. Everyone knew that Jasmine had gone missing late Tuesday, that there was something wrong with Professor Moody, that the castle had to go into lockdown and be searched, and that Jasmine had turned up again in the early morning hours of Thursday in very bad shape. That left an awful lot unsaid, and enterprising gossips had taken it upon themselves to fill in the blanks.

One story had it that Jasmine had almost killed Moody in a duel and had fled with aurors hot on her heels. Another said that she had been caught trying to cheat in the tournament and had run off in disgrace. The worst, in everyone's opinion, was that Hermione and Viktor had decided to elope and Jasmine left school in order to commit suicide. She was just waiting to see if Rita Skeeter was going to publish it.

All those gathered by the Black Lake knew that they would be the first to hear the truth, and while they didn't know what the truth was yet, they knew it couldn't be good. They had learned enough about Jasmine's past adventures to recognize that this was worse than the others and that merely knowing it meant that they'd be shouldering some of the burden which she, Hermione, and Ron usually bore alone.

"Hi, everybody," she said as she stepped in front of the group — a group which she only just then realized she was starting to call friends and comrades. _When did that happen?_ she wondered. _How did that happen?_

She ignored the gasps of surprise when people finally saw her, with Gabrielle clearly being the most upset. It looked to Jasmine like it was only Fleur's hand on her sister's shoulder that kept her from running over. Jasmine had deliberately chosen to not get all her cuts and bruises healed too quickly. She wanted to bear them for a while, to show the world what she had lived through. She had survived and she was proud of that, even if she was still having trouble dealing with some of the particulars.

"I'm sure you all know that I don't like to do this sort of thing — to talk about myself and my experiences," she said and received many nods in return. "I don't like being put on a pedestal or called a hero, and I don't like being pitied, two of the most common reactions when people hear about what I've been through. In this case, though, I'm making a big exception and telling you everything — the whole, unvarnished truth — early on."

"Why am I doing this?" she asked. "Two reasons. First, because of how critical this is. It's something you all desperately need to know. Very few in the magical world have any clue about what's going on, but very shortly you will. And you may not thank me for telling you. Second, because I trust all of you. I trust that you won't use this against me. I trust that you will instead use this information positively to help people. I trust that you'll pass this along to others whom you trust so they can prepare for the storm that's coming."

"And make no mistake," she finished, catching the gaze of each of them for a moment, "there is a storm coming, and it will cause a lot of pain and destruction. We can't avoid it — all we can do is be prepared and try to survive it."

Seeing their sober expressions, Jasmine began her tale. The beginning was fragmentary and based in part on what others had told her, a situation that was explained by the Confusing Concoction. Jasmine then moved to events in the graveyard: the taunting, the molestation, the resurrection of Voldemort, the torture, the fight, and finally the flight to Hogwarts. She finished up with being interviewed by Amelia Bones and Cornelius Fudge, explaining how she tricked the Minister into allowing an investigation to go forward despite his wanting to deny everything and sweep it all under the rug.

When she was finished, everyone was in shock. No one knew exactly what to say — they'd all been expecting something bad, but this was way beyond anything they could have imagined. Hannah was the first to speak, saying "Are... are... are you sure that V-V-Vol... that You-Know-Who is back? How do you know that your excuse to the Minister isn't actually the truth?"

Jasmine had expected this to come up and was prepared with an answer. "That's a fair question. First, let me remind you that I've faced him three times before this year. The first was as a toddler, so I guess that doesn't count. The second, though, was when he was trying to steal the Philosopher's Stone to get a new body. So I already knew that he wasn't dead and wanted a body. Second, my scar hurts when he's close — it happened in our first year when he was hiding under Quirrell's turban and it happened in the graveyard. Third, he touched the Dark Mark and called Death Eaters to him, all of whom immediately accepted who he was, bowed down before him, and followed his orders."

After waiting for a few seconds to let all of that sink in, Jasmine said, "I think that's enough to accept that it was indeed Voldemort who climbed out of that cauldron." Everyone shivered and went a bit green when she added, "Or He-Who-Has-No-Balls, as I like to call him now."

"So he's gathering followers again?" Daphne asked. "Preparing to start a new war, or perhaps resume his old one?"

"Absolutely," Jasmine said. "He hasn't mellowed in his old age. If anything, he's angrier than ever because of how much time he had to spend as a wraith. He's angry, he's hateful, and he's violent."

"Last time, there were lots of disappearances before he came out in the open," the normally taciturn Blaise said, "so we should probably expect the same again. Anyone who could be a threat or who might simply stand in his way will be eliminated, one way or another."

"It sounds like we need to educate ourselves on how he operated last time," Cedric said. "If certain tactics worked for him before, I imagine he'll use them again."

"Isn't it curious how that isn't already taught at Hogwarts?" Hermione pointed out. "Why isn't it a required part of History of Magic? Why doesn't our headmaster — who actually fought Voldemort last time — ensure that we learn about the conditions that led up to his rise to power and how he operated? I mean, those sound like obvious and necessary topics for our education."

There were murmurs of agreement as their audience wondered why something so obvious wasn't being taught. "I'm not sure there are any books in the library, though," Jasmine said. "I got a lot of information from back issues of the Daily Prophet. Susan, your aunt might be able to help us there, since she should know quite a bit." Susan agreed to ask her Aunt Amelia for whatever information she could get.

"We're going to have to learn how to defend ourselves," Ginny pointed out. "He's not going to care how young we are, only that we're in his way. Or that we can be used as leverage against our parents."

"Maybe we can organize a club?" Neville suggested. "A group where we learn and practice new spells? Hermione and Jasmine did that for the tournament, and they've gotten loads better. Ginny and I have practiced with them a couple of times, and I already feel more confident." This caused everyone to start talking at once about their DADA classes, the value of different defensive spells, and how much they'd actually be able to learn in an off-hours student club.

"Quiet!" Hermione shouted. Once everyone was settled down, she continued, "We're starting to stray a bit from the original topic. Before we talk about anything like school clubs, does anyone have any questions for Jasmine about what happened?"

"How are you feeling?" Padma asked. "You look... well, you don't look so great, though you sound OK."

Jasmine smiled broadly at the Ravenclaw, happy that at least one person had asked that question. "I'm doing a lot better. My recovery from being under the cruciatus twice has gone a lot faster than Madam Pomfrey expected. I've chosen to not get all the cuts and bruises healed too quickly because I want people to see what happened to me and to know that I survived anyway. That anyone can survive, if they work at it."

* * *

Once there were no more questions for Jasmine and everyone started talking about various related issues, Jasmine decided that she'd had enough and left to walk around by herself for a bit. Hermione was going to go with her, but Jasmine encouraged the bushy-haired witch to remain behind and help with the planning and organization. Jasmine knew that it was the sort of thing she lived for.

Jasmine hadn't gotten far from the meeting site before she was accosted by what was probably the very last person she wanted to see just then. Or ever, really.

"Hey, scarhead, I see you've added a few new scars to your collection." The sneering, rasping voice was followed by the dull laughter of Malfoy's two bookends and pug-nosed girlfriend. _I don't remember seeing him in the hospital wing_ , she thought. _He must have been released just before I arrived._

As the boy laughed, Jasmine started to see not Draco Malfoy, but Lucius Malfoy, and barely caught herself before she ejected her wand into her hand and started throwing curses. It was a very near thing, because the laughter and voices of the two blonde bigots were so very similar; but Draco's voice hadn't fully recovered yet, and she calmed down enough to remember where she was. Instead of hexing him then, she took a couple of deep breaths before shouldering past him in an effort to avoid rising to his bait.

Malfoy, though, was having none of that. Just as she was past him, he grabbed her shoulder and spun her around so she was facing back the way she came. "Hey, I was talking to you, witch! Don't ignore your betters!" Shocked that he would dare lay hands on her like that, she simply gaped at his audacity. Even then, however, she still hoped to avoid another fight and took a couple of steps back.

"Yeah, I can see how scared you are," Malfoy continued with a haughty look. "I'll bet my father made sure you'd be scared, didn't he?" Jasmine stopped moving when she heard that. _His father?_ she asked herself. _What does Draco know?_

"I have a pretty good idea of what he was planning to do with you, of course," he boasted. He didn't, actually, but he would never admit to that. Instead, he simply made a few educated guesses based on how well he knew his father and ran with them.

"I'm looking forward to doing the same thing to you that my father did," Malfoy continued, digging his hole even deeper. "That's assuming he didn't ruin you so completely that it's not worth it anymore. Your face is pretty badly beat up, and if the rest of you is that awful, I'm not sure I want any of it. Maybe in the dark, but that's a stretch." Jasmine's vision narrowed until she could see nothing but Draco Malfoy's laughing face, and she could hear her heart pounding in her ears as he continued to taunt her.

"I'll bet you enjoyed it by the end, didn't you, Potty?" Malfoy asked with a leer. "I'll bet your mother was just as much of a slut, even though she never had a chance to be used by the Dark Lord's servants. Lucky you that you've gotten that chance." Malfoy's sycophants were all laughing uproariously by this point, finding his words very entertaining.

"It'll be a glorious day when I finally see you put in your place," he continued in his scratchy voice, "serving your betters while on your hands and knees. Or on your back. It's the only place a witch like you belongs. And as a pureblood wizard I'll put you there, sooner rather than later, and then I'll go after that mudblood bit—"

Malfoy didn't get any farther before Jasmine's last thread of self-control snapped. Her fist lashed out, striking square in the middle of his face and breaking his nose. Unlike when Hermione punched him the previous year, however, Jasmine followed through: when Malfoy tumbled backwards to the ground, Jasmine was right there with him. Kneeling over his chest, she grasped the front of his robes with her left hand and continued to punch him in his face with her right.

Crabbe, Goyle, and Parkinson were going to help, but what none of them had noticed was that their altercation had attracted the attention of those who had come to listen to Jasmine talk. They had all just stepped out from behind the rocks and were gaping in shock at Malfoy for what he was saying when Jasmine lashed out at him. As soon as the other three twitched, Fleur and Gabrielle surprised everyone by almost flying to Jasmine's aide.

Like Jasmine, they used physical force rather than magical spells: while Fleur kicked Goyle's legs out from under him and twisted his arm behind his back to hold him down, Gabrielle first struck Parkinson violently in the kidney, causing her to drop in pain; then kicked out with one foot to disarm Crabbe, who had actually managed to draw his wand. He had the good sense to put up both hands and step back — he may not have been able to recognize the signs of an enraged veela threatening to transform, but the fury on the blonde witch's face was more than enough incentive to not push his luck any further.

All the while, Jasmine was shouting at Malfoy, punctuating each word with another punch to his face: " **You. Will. Not. Threaten. Me. Or. Hermione. Ever. Again!** " The blonde Slytherin was so stunned at being physically attacked that he never tried to defend himself, not even to simply raise his hands to cover his face.

Before any of her friends could intervene to prevent her from doing permanent damage, she stopped on her own. Panting from the exertion, she pulled back on his robe to bring his bloody, swollen, crying face closer to hers. "Can you still hear me, ferret?" she asked in a low, menacing voice. When he nodded, she continued, "You just got off lucky. When your father tried to come after me, I **burned** him. Do you hear me? I burned him to the ground. Your pureblood daddy was screaming in **agony** from my flames when I last saw him."

Draco's eyes were half swollen shut by this point, but he managed to open them a little wider upon hearing what had happened to his father. He had been wondering why his father hadn't written to him and feared that Jasmine might be telling the truth. "If you touch me again, if you harm me or my friends again, if you even sneer in my direction again, I'll do far worse to you than I did to your cowardly, worthless, rapist father. Do you understand?" When Draco didn't nod fast enough, Jasmine shook him hard and asked again more loudly, " **Do. You. Under. Stand?** "

Draco finally nodded his head fervently, so Jasmine threw him back to the ground and stood up, glaring down at the sobbing boy. _I'm not going to be a victim anymore_ , she vowed to herself. _I'm not going to allow myself to be victimized by the likes of you_ _ **ever**_ _again. No more!_

Not feeling a whit of sympathy for Malfoy, she lifted one foot and stomped, **hard** , right between his legs before stalking off, anger and magic radiating out from her in all directions. _You want to praise Voldemort?_ she thought harshly. _Well, now you're just like your idol._

She didn't bother looking back at Draco, who was curled up in a fetal position, keening in pain and wondering if he'd ever father children now.

Jasmine never consciously noticed all of her friends watching in the background, shocked and speechless first by Malfoy's words and then by Jasmine's own violent response. She never noticed Hermione running to catch up after a few moments, much less Fleur and Gabrielle following and taking flanking positions on either side of them. The rest of their friends hadn't even had time to process what had just happened, but the witches at least all recognized the seriousness of the situation: Draco Malfoy had just threatened to rape Jasmine after praising his father's assault on her, and she, in turn, beat him bloody for it.

While Crabbe and Goyle helped Malfoy and Parkinson get back to the castle, everyone else gathered together to talk about what would happen next.

"Snape's going to demand that she be expelled," Daphne said.

"What?" Cedric asked. "She may have gone overboard, but he threatened to rape her — and just a couple of days after his father molested her and threatened her with rape as well! I'm not saying she was entirely in the right, but she was certainly justified in having reacted badly."

"Doesn't matter," Tracey responded, shaking her head, "Snape hates Potter and will use this to attack her. He wanted her expelled after she **helped** Malfoy by stunning him, remember. He protects Malfoy, letting him get away with anything. I've yet to see the headmaster step in to stop him, either."

"We can't let that happen," Padma insisted. "If prats like Malfoy think that they can get away with threatening witches with rape, it won't be long before they decide that they can get away with acting on their threats."

"On top of that," Neville added, "if Jasmine is expelled, she'll lose the protection of Hogwarts and have her wand snapped. How long do you think she'll last with V-V-Voldemort out there and no means to defend herself?"

"But what can we do?" Hannah asked.

"We don't let them sweep this under the rug, for one thing," Daphne asserted. "Jasmine may not have been entirely in the right, but it will be easy to spin this to ensure that she's the sympathetic victim. Portraying Malfoy as the aggressor won't take any work at all, not with his history of how he treats everyone else and Jasmine in particular."

"And if we start now," Tracey continued, "then by the time the teachers are even thinking about doing something, most of the school will have made up their minds that Jasmine was in the right and shouldn't be punished."

"You really don't think she should be punished at all?" Cedric asked a bit dubiously.

"After everything she's been through, and then facing rape threats?" Padma shot back at him. "He's lucky she didn't do worse!" Cedric winced at the rebuke.

Daphne put her hand on Padma's shoulder to calm her down, then turned to Cedric and said, "Honestly, I think it could go either way. What Padma said is right, but it's also true that she was pretty vicious — after all, Malfoy only used words, he didn't physically harm her. Tracey was stating a negotiating tactic: demand more than you really need so you have something to give up as part of a compromise."

"Ah," Viktor said, seeing her point. "So you vould not complain about some repercussions, but start out trying for none."

"Well, I would if I were doing the negotiating," Daphne said, "but I won't be. I'm talking about creating the conditions to make it easier for **her** to negotiate. If she has enough of the students on her side, the teachers will find it more difficult to be overly harsh. If the teachers know that most of the witches in the castle see things the same way Jasmine does, and may react in the same way if put in an even vaguely similar situation, they'll be more likely to find some means of making us feel safer rather than punishing us for reacting badly to threats."

"And they certainly won't be able to expel her," Tracey added, "Not unless they want a riot on their hands."

"Oh, yes," Padma said with a smirk. "I can just see Skeeter's headline: Witches Riot After Dumbledore Defends Rape."

"C'mon, girls, Jasmine needs us," Susan announced. "Let's go spread the word among our houses. Neville and Ron, you're honorary witches for the day, so you go with Ginny to inform Gryffindor." The poor boys' blushes threatened to overtake their entire bodies. Blaise glowered at her, daring her to say the same about him.

"But like we were already discussing," Daphne cautioned, "we don't tell everyone about the return of You-Know-Who. We can start telling those we trust soon enough, but for now we'll just stick to the story of dark wizards having kidnapped Jasmine. No one will have any trouble accepting that Lucius Malfoy was one of them — he and his family have long had a reputation for darker magic, even ignoring his connection with You-Know-Who."

"I'll go with Padma and talk to Cho," Cedric said. "That will help speed things up in Ravenclaw." This earned him a very thankful look from the younger witch next to him.

"I vill talk to some of my friends on the ship," Viktor said. "I am sure I can gather some support from Durmstrang if it is needed."

"Oh, that's a great idea," Daphne said quickly. "The professors really won't like the idea of bad international publicity!"

"I think we'll get that from Beauxbatons, too," Tracey added. "Fleur and Gabrielle looked... _scary_. I don't ever want to get on their bad side."

"Neville," Susan said, "before you join the others in Gryffindor, can you go let Jasmine and Hermione know what we're doing? This won't work if they're in the dark."

Neville gave the Hufflepuff witch a quick nod, then trotted off in the direction that he saw the other four go.

* * *

 **Saturday, March 20, 1995, Late Afternoon.**

Jasmine had intended to walk around the Hogwarts grounds, but Hermione steered her girlfriend back into the castle instead. As much as Jasmine might have preferred wide-open spaces, Hermione felt that some close, physical contact might ultimately serve her better. Besides, she knew of a place in the castle with some very good memories.

With the two veela sisters silently accompanying them, they quickly made their way to the seventh floor, where Hermione requested the room the two of them had shared on New Year's Eve and Valentine's Day. The Room of Requirement complied, though with a slight change that Hermione didn't think much about at first: instead of a cozy love seat, the room provided a larger couch.

Hermione sat in the middle of the couch and pulled Jasmine down next to her. For several minutes Hermione just held her, stroking Jasmine's back and whispering into her hair. Suddenly, Hermione felt the couch shift as the weight of two people came down on either side of them, and she felt both herself and Jasmine be embraced by Fleur and Gabrielle.

For some reason that Hermione couldn't identify, she actually felt even better — happier, more comforted, and safer. Jasmine was no different, as she seemed to relax even deeper into Hermione's embrace. Both Gryffindor witches were at that moment more relaxed and content than they had been in a very long time. They didn't know why, but they weren't going to argue against it.

That didn't mean that Hermione didn't have questions, though. "I thought that you wouldn't feel comfortable going beyond holding hands with people like us, Fleur," Hermione said, "and even that was a bit of a stretch, given how little we knew each other."

"Oui," Fleur said. "I said zat close, physical contact requires love and affection because for us it eez an important expression of both." Fleur didn't elaborate further, she simply let those words hang in the air. Hermione wasn't sure what to think about that, but the fact that Gabrielle sounded like she was purring — actually **purring** — on Jasmine's other side spoke louder than any words ever could.

Not really knowing what to make of the veela cuddling on either side of them and suspecting that there was still a whole lot more to veela than she realized, she decided to focus on what she originally came in her for. Pulling the auburn-haired witch a bit tighter, she said gently, "I'm here for you, Jas. Do you want to talk about it?"

Although she hadn't been crying, Jasmine took a long, shuddering breath before speaking. "It's hard to explain. Originally, I just wanted to get away from him. I didn't say anything. Anything at all. I just pushed past and focused on getting my head cleared. Reliving all of those experiences like that... it wasn't easy, y'know? There were a couple of moments during my story when I felt like I was back in the graveyard again. I had to focus on my breathing to calm down."

Hermione nodded, having already guessed that from watching Jasmine's behavior during the meeting. Gabrielle and Fleur hugged the other two a bit tighter, feeling a little guilty at having been part of the reason for Jasmine reliving her awful experiences.

"Anyway," Jasmine continued, already feeling better from all the contact with the other three, "When he started mouthing off, I got annoyed. When he talked about what his father had done, I got concerned. I mean, what did his father tell him? What did Malfoy know of his father's plans? When he threatened to rape me, all I could think about was his father molesting me and threatening to rape me. But then…."

Jasmine paused for a long moment, prompting Hermione to ask, "Then what?"

"I didn't realize it, but I hadn't remembered everything that happened to me in the graveyard. There was something I had forgotten when I told my story first to Amelia Bones and then later to you guys." All three of the other witches stiffened slightly, fearful of what might be coming.

"Draco started including you in his threats," Jasmine explained. "That caused me to have a flashback to the graveyard when his father also started threatening you. I... I just lost control when Draco said those things. I attacked him, just like I started attacking Voldemort and his thugs when Voldemort threatened what he'd do to you." Gabrielle and Fleur gave each other a meaningful look.

"I saw clearly in my mind what he and his father intended," Jasmine continued, "I saw that they could have the power to do it, too, and that no one in the wizarding world would care enough to stop them. So I had to do it. I stopped his father the other night, and I stopped Draco earlier today. And quite frankly, I don't regret it, either. If the rest of wizarding Britain isn't going to protect us by stopping thugs like them, then I'm going to do it, and to hell with the magical world if they don't like the way I do it."

"Nor should you regret it," Hermione said, surprising herself at her quick defense of Jasmine's violence. "I think I'm starting to understand what you meant about people like Draco only stopping when they are forced to — when someone imposes such a price in terms of pain and humiliation that they give up. I don't like it, but I think I understand it."

Hermione sighed before continuing, "You probably went further than was necessary, but it's hardly surprising given the circumstances. No one in this school has done a single thing to teach him that such behavior is wrong. And now he's threatening to rape other students. How can any other reaction be expected? If our teachers had been doing their jobs the past four years, you'd never have been put in that situation to begin with! If they'd been doing their jobs, we wouldn't have to worry about going to class with students who regularly denigrate us and brag about wanting to attack us!"

Jasmine pulled back a little so she could look into Hermione's eyes, completely ignoring their audience. "You know that I'd never let anything happen to you, right?"

Hermione smiled indulgently and said, "Jasmine, you can't always be hovering around me to protect.…"

"No," Jasmine interrupted, "I'd never let anything happen to you. I swear to you, no amount of distance separating us and no bonds holding me down would ever keep me from you if you were in trouble. Nothing would ever stop me from striking down anyone who would dare hurt you."

Jasmine moved one hand up to cup the side of Hermione's face. "I love you, Hermione Granger, and no person, no magic, no circumstance will ever keep us apart." Jasmine then closed her eyes and leaned in to kiss Hermione as lovingly as she had ever done before.

With the strong emotions that had been rampaging through both witches all day, not to mention the oath that had just been made, it was inevitable that their bond would advance even further, creating pale, glowing magical lights that reached out and tried to blend with one another.

Gabrielle and Fleur never expected to be caught in such a situation again. This time, they both felt a pull on their magics as the glowing lights expanded to encompass them. Jasmine and Hermione also felt a pull, but they were far too engrossed in what they were doing to pay attention to anything else. Once they pulled apart, they realized that they had had an audience for their amorous activity.

"Uh..." Hermione tried to say, "I guess this might be a good time to mention that Jasmine and I are, um, a couple? And that we really, really don't want that getting around?"

"It eez not a problem," Fleur said, not releasing her embrace of the other two. "We already knew and 'aven't said anything."

"You... knew?" Jasmine asked, a bit bug-eyed. "But how?"

"Eet was obvious," Gabrielle said with a dismissive shrug. "We are French."

Not knowing what else to do, everyone hugged each other even tighter, trying to snuggle into the others as deeply as possible. It had been a long, difficult afternoon, and everyone's emotions were more than a little bit raw. Jasmine in particular was hurting, and each of the other three witches saw it as their responsibility to help her recover.

The fact that there were four now instead of simply two was a surprise to the two English witches, but the level of extra comfort and support this new development was mysteriously providing was too important to question.


	51. We're Not Gonna Take It

**A/N:** I can't say for certain, but I believe that the discussion in Dumbledore's office in this chapter was at least partially (and unconsciously) inspired by a similar scene in "Broken Chains" by DarthMarrs (though the scene in that fic involved Hermione).

Also, just so there are no misunderstandings, no new bonds were created at the end of the last chapter. What you saw was a solidifying of the existing bond. Just as the soul bond itself is advanced as the relationship between Jasmine and Hermione has progressed (which is the reverse of how soul bond stories tend to be written), the bond with their shieldmaidens solidified because their relationship with them deepened — note Fleur's words shortly before it happened.

 **Recommendation** : This chapter's recommended fic is "Unexpected Assistance" by SymphonySamurai. Hermione isn't the only one who believes that Harry didn't put his name in the Goblet of Fire. An unexpected person approaches them and offers to help. Harry/Hermione/Daphne.

* * *

 **Chapter 51 - We're Not Gonna Take It**

 **Saturday, March 20, 1995, Evening.**

The hour had grown quite late by the time the four witches finally left the Room of Requirement, but none of them regretted the time they had spent there together. All of them felt significantly better — more relaxed and content — even though only two truly understood why. Hermione at least knew that there was a lot more going on than she was aware of, and while she didn't say anything, she suspected it had something to do with whatever the veela were keeping from her and Jasmine. She silently vowed to move this to the top of her research list.

After making arrangements to meet before dawn the following morning for their Eostre celebration, and assured by Hermione and Jasmine that they would be careful and stay safe, Fleur and Gabrielle were directed to a series of secret passages that would take them to a spot near the Great Hall so they could leave the castle as circumspectly as possible. The two Gryffindor witches made their own way to their common room, where they were greeted by very unexpected hugs and expressions of support.

Most surprising of all was Lavender, who dragged the two into an alcove at the side of the common room, where she handed them a sealed parchment and told them that Parvati had already left at a run for the Ravenclaw common room. "Word has gone out all over Hogwarts about what happened to you, Jasmine," Lavender explained. "We're all behind you! Well, all the witches are, at least. Some of the boys," she spat the last word in a very uncharacteristic expression of vitriol, "don't seem to understand what the big deal is, but they won't say anything if they know what's good for them. And don't want to end up like McLaggan." There was a fire in Lavender's eyes that the other two had never seen before — indeed, that they never would have thought the flighty Gossip Queen was even capable of.

They didn't dare ask what had happened to Cormac McLaggan, though.

"I'm surprised that everyone is making such a big deal about this," Hermione said as Jasmine opened the parchment and started to read. "I mean, it's not trivial, but I wouldn't have expected all this." She gestured to the roomful of Gryffindors — mostly witches — conversing earnestly, though she obviously meant the underlying current of anger that was running through the crowd.

"You don't think that Snape is going to let Jasmine get away with it, do you?" Lavender asked. "He'll want her expelled! Or worse, taken in by the aurors!"

"It wouldn't be the first time," Hermione pointed out. "And I doubt that Professor Dumbledore would actually go that far..."

Lavender straightened a bit before saying in a very determined voice, "It's different now. Malfoy showed us that we aren't safe with people like him running around, but Jasmine demonstrated that we can fight back! And you and Jasmine both have shown us that we all have to be **willing** to fight back!"

Hermione started to respond, but Jasmine shoved the parchment in front of her and said to Lavender, "You're right, Lav. One of the things that was running through my mind when I beat that prat into the ground was that I refused to be a victim anymore." Lavender nodded enthusiastically. "Now," the green-eyed witch continued, "this note tells me that Daphne organized the others into informing the rest of the school and provides me with some ideas about how to defend myself, but do you know what it means when it says more is coming?"

"Yes," Lavender responded. "I haven't read it, but I was told that it's a summary in case the right witches couldn't get to you in time. There are several copies floating around the castle, just in case someone else found you first. Parvati has gone to Padma, who has connections in Slytherin. With any luck, we'll have one of the snakes here before any of the teachers even knows you're back with us."

Jasmine shook her head, "The Fat Lady will send word along the portraits. They already know, I'm sure of it." Lavender was distressed to learn that the castle's paintings would inform on them like that, then started fretting about how much time Parvati was taking.

* * *

It wasn't long before Professor McGonagall emerged through the portrait hole on the other side of the room. "Miss Potter?" she asked, "We've been looking everywhere for you. Come with me."

"Where are you taking her?" came an angry witch's voice from the crowd.

McGonagall's eyes widened slightly in surprise at being challenged like that. "Not that it's any of your business, but the Headmaster would like to see her."

"Is she going to get a fair hearing?" came a second angry voice. "What about Malfoy?" came a third. "Yeah!" came several others, accompanied by a lot of muttering and angry looks.

McGonagall took half a step back and looked around at the indignant faces which seemed to surround her — mostly witches, though not a few wizards had joined them. Only now did she realize that upon stepping into the lion's den that evening, she was being received more as an interloper than as an elder of the pride. Her gaze shifted over to the corner where Jasmine Potter stood, a suspicious and defiant look on her face. Hermione Granger stood right next to her with an equally defiant expression, and a camera flashed off to the side while several witches moved quietly to stand between her and their head of house.

The old Transfiguration professor first quirked an eyebrow, but then gave a slight smile before addressing a crowd that she recognized could easily turn into an angry mob. "I take it you all object strenuously to what Mr. Malfoy is reported to have done?" She was answered with a chorus of fierce agreement. "And I further take it that you agree with Miss Potter's response, but fear that certain members of the Hogwarts staff" — several murmurs of "Snape" could be heard from the crowd — "will use this as an excuse to harm her?" Once again, their voices rose, and there was no doubt of where their sympathies lay.

McGonagall nodded, having gotten the responses she had expected. "Rest assured that I will be with her the entire time and will protect her interests." This seemed to mollify her lionesses — and they were starting to act like her lions and lionesses again — so she gestured for Miss Potter to follow her. When Miss Granger made to accompany them, she had to insist that the other witch remain behind. She was quickly engulfed by supportive witches from all seven years, something that warmed the professor's heart because she knew just how alone and isolated she and Miss Potter had always been.

"We'll walk as slowly as we can and take the longest route possible to the headmaster's office," McGonagall spoke quickly to Jasmine, "but we'll still need to talk fast. First, though," she cast two patronuses in the forms of tabby cats and sent a message with each. "Now then," she continued, "tell me exactly what happened — the whole truth. I can't help you if I don't know everything."

And so Jasmine explained what happened early that afternoon — the group meeting, the altercation, Malfoy's words, and the suddenly remembered threats from his father a couple of days before. This was a very different story from what the headmaster had relayed to her, though she wasn't the least bit surprised. Unlike him, she had asked around and heard a very different version of events. She was pleased that Miss Potter was able to confirm that second version. She was even more pleased to learn that, despite how violent Miss Potter's actions had been, she had reacted to significant provocation and only after trying to avoid a confrontation at all.

They hadn't gotten far before they encountered a Slytherin student breathing hard as if she'd just run across half the castle. Jasmine looked very surprised as she was given a fierce hug by the blonde witch.

"Miss Greengrass," Professor McGonagall said sternly, "we are on our way to see the Headmaster, and I'm afraid that you cannot…."

"I know, Professor," Daphne said quickly. "I'm sorry for interrupting, but I'm here to help. I have information."

McGonagall raised one eyebrow to both inquire about the information and to express her skepticism that the young witch had anything that important to say. Daphne proceeded to explain, as quickly as she could, what she and Jasmine's other friends had been doing almost from the instant they had separated earlier in the day.

Both Gryffindors stood there in surprise — even Jasmine, who now had a much clearer picture of what had been happening back in their common room. "You mean to tell me, Miss Greengrass," McGonagall said in a mix of disbelief and awe, "that you have managed to incite the students of Hogwarts — and the witches of Hogwarts in particular — to rise up in defense of Miss Potter, even against the Headmaster and your own head of house?"

Daphne looked a bit intimidated at that summary, but quickly rallied and stood a little straighter before nodding and saying, "Yes, Professor — I was sure we could do this. I also wanted to help Jasmine come up with the best ways to defend herself."

McGonagall smiled and said, "Very good. I award you ten points to Slytherin for promoting inter-house unity, and another ten for supporting a fellow classmate, because I know your head of house won't." This brought a surprised grin from the Slytherin witch. "Now," McGonagall continued, "we've wasted enough time standing around. We must get moving if we're to avoid arousing suspicion."

The rest of the way the three witches discussed the day's events and the likely arguments Jasmine would be confronted by. As much as McGonagall would work to support her, they knew it was inevitable that Jasmine would have to face down her accusers and make her own case if she was going to be taken seriously.

As they entered the corridor where the entrance to the headmaster's office was located, they encountered Pomona Sprout and Filius Flitwick, the two professors whom McGonagall had messaged earlier. She believed that once she could get them on Jasmine's side, she could more easily override any obstructionism from Snape and Dumbledore. "What's the emergency, Minerva?" Sprout asked. "Is this about the assault on Mr. Malfoy?"

McGonagall's lips thinned at the comment. She knew that Pomona had developed a bias against Miss Potter because of the tournament and the perceived slight against Mr. Diggory, but she had hoped that that had abated somewhat in the wake of the second task... or at least enough that she wouldn't take the headmaster's initial report at face value. Flitwick was quiet, but no less concerned. Although he knew the Gryffindor witch much better now, he had also helped her learn a number of darker spells. McGonagall could tell from the look on his face that this incident caused him to worry about whether he had set her down a dark path.

Although she hadn't had much time to digest everything herself, she managed to give both a quick but thorough summary of the day's events. As McGonagall had hoped, neither of the other professors was happy about the biased story they'd earlier heard, making them even more sympathetic to Jasmine's case than they would have been otherwise — as if the horrible threats from both of the Malfoys weren't enough. They were also impressed enough with Daphne's actions to tell her that they'd have awarded her points if McGonagall hadn't already done it, and she was sent away with a lot more self-confidence than she'd had even just that morning.

It was a very unhappy but determined group that finally climbed the stairs to the headmaster's office.

* * *

As Albus Dumbledore sat at his desk waiting for Jasmine Potter to arrive, he reflected on the awful rollercoaster of the past few days. He had been more than a little skeptical of Miss Granger's hysterical report about Miss Potter's absence, despite Minerva's endorsement. However, a careful check of the wards — a taxing process that he was loathe to repeat except under the most serious of circumstances — informed him that she was, in fact, not in the castle.

It was only after he'd broken into Alastor's room and found his old friend locked in his own trunk that the awful truth had been revealed. The shame of having harbored a Death Eater all year, allowing him to teach DADA and giving him a chance to kidnap the Girl Who Lived, was a failure that still burned; but it was the thought that she would be killed, making the Dark victorious before the war even started, that had made him physically ill.

Contrary to expectations, her return to the castle hadn't made him feel much better. She was alive, but every bruise, every cut, and every tremor was a testimony to how much he'd failed her. Then, just this afternoon, he'd been informed about a vicious, unprovoked attack on Mr. Malfoy by none other than Miss Potter! Yet another failure of his where she was concerned.

Dumbledore remembered the anger and barely-leashed violence he'd seen in her eyes just before the second task. Now, it appeared, her violence was no longer leashed. Perhaps it was a consequence of her torture by Tom, or perhaps Tom had done something else to her; but either way, such attacks were a characteristic of the Dark, not the Light, and he'd have to act decisively if there was to be any hope of saving her.

Oh, he knew how unlikely it was that the attack had been completely unprovoked, but after seeing how bad the boy's injuries were, he couldn't help but agree that it must have been undeserved. Mr. Malfoy's typical taunts and insults had never risen to a level which would justify such an assault. _I thought that Miss Potter was finally learning how to deal with insults and taunts in a graceful, nonviolent manner. It is such a disappointment to find that I was mistaken._

Finally, the gargoyle at the bottom of the steps to his office announced the arrival of visitors. He glanced over at his Potions professor and wondered, not for the first time, why the man harbored such anger towards the girl when she resembled her mother far more than her father. _I just hope he doesn't allow his personal feelings to interfere with what needs to be done_ , he thought.

When he saw how many visitors were entering his office, he was unable to mask his surprise. "Professor McGonagall," he greeted her as he looked at all the faces, recognizing expressions of displeasure, "I believe I only requested to see Miss Potter. I confess myself curious as to why we are now such a large gathering,"

"Headmaster," she replied, "given the serious nature of the accusations leveled against my student, I thought it prudent to ensure that she received a fair hearing in front of impartial members of staff." Dumbledore stifled a sigh and nodded in acceptance. In truth he disliked committees because in his long experience, the larger they were, the less they accomplished; but he couldn't easily object to this.

He also disliked the implication that she didn't consider either Severus or himself to be impartial. _This meeting has scarcely begun, and already it's going downhill…._

"Miss Potter," the headmaster said once everyone was seated. "I have received a very disturbing report about your behavior today. I'm afraid that the consequences for you will be rather serious."

"Rather serious, Headmaster?" Snape cut in. "She should be expelled, period. No other punishment will do."

"Perhaps we should hear Miss Potter's side of the story?" Pomona Sprout suggested, causing everyone to turn their attention to the young Gryffindor witch.

"Professor Snape, why are you defending someone who wants to be a rapist?" Jasmine asked. Dumbledore raised one eyebrow, curious about the purpose of such an accusatory question. She was acting calmly, not at all like a student facing severe punishment. No, she acted like someone with a plan.

"Excuse me?" Snape responded in an affronted tone.

"A rapist," Jasmine said. "Draco Malfoy wants to be a rapist. He threatened both me and my friend with violent rape."

Snape snorted. "It figures that you'd try to come up with some story to justify your violent behavior. But you only have your word for what you claim Mr. Malfoy said, your word against his and his three friends."

"So if there were more witnesses to agree with what I said," Jasmine responded, "you'd believe me?"

"As if that would happen," Snape sneered, though anyone who knew the man like Dumbledore did would recognize the glimmer of worry in his eyes.

"Well, it's a good thing that I have about a dozen people who saw the conversation and would be happy to tell the truth," Jasmine announced. She then started ticking off fingers while looking thoughtfully at the ceiling. "There's Cedric Diggory, the Hogwarts champion; Viktor Krum, the Durmstrang Champion; Fleur Delacour, the Beauxbatons champion; Susan Bones and Hannah Abbot from Hufflepuff; Padma Patil from Ravenclaw; Ron and Ginny Weasley and Neville Longbottom from Gryffindor... need I go on?"

The question hung there for a moment while everyone processed the fact that Jasmine had far more support for her story than Mr. Malfoy, which meant that Mr. Malfoy and his friends had been lying. Dumbledore closed his eyes and shook his head regretfully, annoyed that Snape had brought this to him without having investigated properly. He was even more annoyed with himself for having assumed that whatever Mr. Malfoy had said before he was hurt had simply been part and parcel of his usual taunts.

"It doesn't matter," Snape insisted. "Beating Mr. Malfoy like that was a completely inappropriate response to what he said."

"Thank you for accepting that he did indeed threaten to rape two female students, Professor Snape," Jasmine said, earning her a vicious glare from the Potions professor that she didn't hesitate to return. "But I wonder, did Professor Dumbledore inform you that Voldemort is back?" He had indeed communicated this information to all four heads of house so they could prepare themselves and keep a closer eye on their charges.

"What does that matter, Potter?" Snape responded with another sneer. "Do you think that having seen the Dark Lord will get you special treatment here? Even your father wasn't that arrogant." Dumbledore suppressed a sigh at yet another attempt by the man to compare the girl to her father. He didn't miss the looks of annoyance from the other professors, either.

"So you were told about Voldemort's return, thank you," Jasmine said before turning to the headmaster. "Professor Dumbledore, why do you employ a man who wants me dead?" Everyone except McGonagall froze at that question; even the portraits all looked shocked.

"What on earth are you blathering on about, girl?" Snape demanded angrily while Dumbledore's eyebrows shot up into his hairline.

"That's a very serious accusation, Miss Potter," Dumbledore said, "and one that certainly isn't true..."

Before he could continue, Jasmine interrupted, "If I get expelled, my wand is snapped, correct?"

"It's no less than what you deserve, Potter," Snape growled.

"So, Professor Snape, you want to expel me from the security of Hogwarts and send me out into the world without any way of defending myself from Voldemort — despite not only knowing that he's back, but that I had to use my wand to protect myself from him and his minions — including Lucius Malfoy, by the way — just a couple of days ago."

Everyone went very still as they followed the logic of her statements. What she said was obvious in retrospect, but the news of Tom's return was so new and unexpected that the full implications hadn't been completely processed by everyone, not even the headmaster. As he glanced around the room, he noticed that three heads of house looked like they wanted to strangle the fourth.

 _I'm not sure I can blame them, either_ , he lamented. _Severus' behavior of late has become intolerable, it seems, and I may not be able to continue my lenient attitude towards him. Given recent events, he'll need to be more careful anyway._

"I ask you again, Professor Dumbledore," Jasmine said in a tight voice, her hands balled into fists, "why do you employ a man who is actively seeking my death? A man who happens to be defending a student who wants to rape me? What kind of school is this?"

Dumbledore's gaze turned very hard as he looked over at Snape, who muttered, "I... withdraw my demand."

"Yes," Dumbledore said sternly. "Expulsion is off the table." He wasn't sure whom he was angrier with: Severus for appearing to seek the death of Miss Potter, or himself for not having discussed the issue of expulsion with Severus before the meeting started. _If I'd given the issue a bit more attention, I would have noticed how a threat of expulsion might seem to others and could have cautioned Severus not to say anything. Now everyone else thinks that I either don't care about her death or am willing to allow a member of staff to plot it. Could this possibly get any worse?_

A quick glance told him that the other heads of house were still horrified and outraged at what they thought had been in the works. Turning to face Jasmine again, who looked no less angry, he did what he could to salvage things. "I never seriously considered expulsion. That's a punishment I try to reserve for those who are completely unrepentant and pose a continuing danger to other students — something I'm sure isn't the case with you." Another quick glance around the room told him that this was helping. Slightly.

"The fact that Professor Snape no longer wants me dead doesn't make me feel much better since he offers no apology for wanting me dead a few minutes ago," Jasmine grumbled. The sneer on Snape's face told everyone that no apology would be coming anytime soon, if ever.

"Given that the initial reports about what happened were... flawed," Dumbledore said, flicking a pointed glance at Snape, "why don't you tell us what you remember of the incident."

Jasmine proceeded to do just that, explaining the meeting in which she told her friends about her kidnapping, her encounter with Malfoy, her attempt to just leave, his threats, her flashback to similar threats from his father, and finally her hitting him.

"That... is quite a disturbing story," Dumbledore said when she finished. He didn't need to look around to know that the others were upset at what they had just heard, even Snape. "However," he continued, "what you did was wrong and must be punished. We cannot have students attacking each other on the grounds, regardless of the provocation."

"And what do you intend to do to punish Draco?" she demanded.

"Mr. Malfoy is in the hospital wing and will have to remain there for at least a full day while all of his injuries are healed," Snape announced, still trying to protect his student. "That's more than punishment enough."

"Really?" McGonagall drawled, getting a curious look from Dumbledore. "If what Miss Potter did to him qualifies as 'punishment' for his threats, then it must have been deserved, appropriate, and legitimate. If that's the case, then you can't punish her for doing it. If, however, you punish her for what she did, then what she did was illegitimate and therefore can't qualify as punishment for him."

Flitwick chuckled softly before saying, "She's got you there, Severus. Either both must be punished, or neither can be punished." This earned him a very annoyed glare.

"Minerva," Dumbledore said tiredly, "do you really think that Mr. Malfoy deserves to suffer even more than he has already?"

"He hasn't suffered nearly enough!" Jasmine interjected angrily.

"Miss Potter!" Dumbledore exclaimed in shock. He had hoped that she would be repentant enough to justify a certain degree of leniency, thus proving that she hadn't really strayed too far from the Light after all. Declaring that the injured boy should be hurt even more was worse than merely not regretting how much he'd been hurt already.

"Ever since I started here," Jasmine explained, looking less and less calm, "you've let Draco get away with absolutely everything, including praising murder."

"Murder?" Dumbledore asked, not understanding where this was coming from. Even the four heads of house were surprised.

"Yes, second year," Jasmine answered, "He said, 'You'll be next, Mudbloods,' when he saw what he thought was Mrs. Norris' dead body under the the message from the Heir of Slytherin. In other words, he proudly announced that fellow students would be murdered in the castle's halls and made it clear that he looked forward to it. No one punished him for that, just like no one ever punishes him for constantly using the word 'mudblood.' You are responsible for this entire situation: a bully who thinks he can say absolutely anything, and a witch who feels so threatened that she is forced to use violence to protect herself."

Dumbledore paled slightly, never having realized that Mr. Malfoy had been that bad at such an early age. He'd long hoped that the young wizard could be redirected from the path his father had set him on, but this information suggested that he'd never had any chance at all. _Should I not have given him so many opportunities to come around and change his mind?_ he asked himself.

"It's a dark, depressing mirror of magical Britain as a whole," Jasmine continued with a scowl. "Draco is just like his daddy, a man who thinks he can say or do anything. In his father's case, I also had to use violence to defend myself. You," Jasmine said this while looking back and forth between Dumbledore and Snape, "are creating a whole new generation just like Lucius Malfoy and Voldemort: people who believe they have a right to do whatever they want, just because they can. It's one reason why I'm considering not staying in this society."

"What?" Dumbledore croaked out in a panic, his initial umbrage at being accused of making things worse having been immediately overridden by this new disaster. "But this is your world, your community!" he tried to protest. "How could you possibly consider not staying?"

" **My** world?" Jasmine asked bitterly with more than a little bit of disdain. "No, it's **your** world. I grew up muggle. You saw to that, Professor Dumbledore, remember?" The headmaster winced, having never imagined that his decision might cause such a problem. "As it is, I have little love for muggle Britain, either, thanks to the Dursleys and the failure of muggle authorities to stop their constant abuse of me, so I'd probably leave this island entirely."

"Would you really give up on magic?" McGonagall asked, sadness clear in her voice.

"Magic?" Jasmine asked, turning to look at her head of house. "Not at all. I don't need to live in Hogsmeade or Diagon Alley to use magic. I enjoy magic. The more contact I have with wizards and witches, though, the less happy I am. That goes double for magical institutions and authority figures. After all, those authority figures forced me, an underage, barely trained witch, to compete in a dangerous tournament so I could act as bait for people who then kidnapped me right out from under the noses of those same authority figures. Those kidnappers then tortured me, molested me, threatened to rape me, and tried to kill me." It was clear that she was only barely keeping her anger in check.

Everyone except Snape winced at her description of events. As blunt and unkind as her words were, they were also accurate. And while most of the responsibility for it all fell on the headmaster, the heads of house were not without some responsibility themselves. Jasmine looked back and forth between the adults, all of whom were looking more than a little uncomfortable. "You shouldn't be wondering why I'd consider leaving. You should be wondering why I haven't already emptied my trust account and fled the country."

Dumbledore noticed a slight look of happiness on Snape's face at this declaration — a very unfamiliar sight. Apparently, McGonagall noticed too and asked, "I suppose you'd like that, wouldn't you, Severus? Well, if it happens, I'm sure you'll sleep soundly knowing that you were an important factor in Miss Potter deciding that magical Britain isn't worth living in. I wonder what the public would do when they found that out. And you can be sure they would."

Desperate to stop talking about the Girl Who Lived abandoning Britain, a problem he'd have to tackle later when he had time to examine it more thoroughly, Dumbledore tried to steer the conversation back to its earlier topic. "Be that as it may, we cannot have a school where students think they are free to attack each other. There must be order."

"There must also be safety — and a feeling of safety," Sprout said, "something we don't have if students feel free to go around threatening to rape other students."

"Miss Potter and I discussed this on the way here, and she'd be willing to accept a moderate punishment, though only under certain conditions," McGonagall said.

"Conditions, Potter?" Snape sneered, "Your arrogance knows no bounds."

"I don't consider it arrogant to expect fairness in how one of my students is treated, Severus." McGonagall snapped. Realizing that he'd overstepped his bounds, Snape subsided and looked sullen.

"Miss Potter would accept a ban on Hogsmeade visits and a few weeks of detentions," McGonagall continued, "but only if Mr. Malfoy gets the same plus at least a few weeks more for provoking the incident in the first place. I believe we're agreed not only that there was provocation, but that it was unusually extreme and inappropriate?" The others nodded their heads while Snape remained silent, remembering that he'd inadvertently conceded that point earlier.

"I'd also recommend some punishment for those who lied about the incident. In addition, there would have to be no more tolerance of threats like those Mr. Malfoy made today," McGonagall went on. "No more tolerance of bullying. No more tolerance of words like mudblood or of insults shouted across the Great Hall. If young witches in our care know that such behavior won't be tolerated, then maybe they won't have to fear for their safety or their virtues, and thus won't feel the need to lash out with violence when threatened."

"And if those conditions aren't met?" Dumbledore asked, not liking being pushed into a corner, even if he was hard-pressed to find fault with the proposal. They were things McGonagall had been pushing for repeatedly over the years, but he'd resisted in the expectation that looser restrictions would make it easier to entice students from certain families to a better path. However, based on what he was learning today, at least some of his assumptions may have been mistaken.

"Then I suppose we witches will have to assume that the staff supports bullying and threats of rape," Jasmine asserted, apparently unhappy that he'd even consider not accepting the deal. "We will have to assume that we are in danger in the halls of this castle and must therefore be prepared to defend ourselves — swiftly and violently."

"It's arrogant for you to assume that anyone else shares your delusional attitude, Potter," Snape said dismissively. Dumbledore noticed the smirks that the others had in response to Snape's comment, making him suddenly very worried about what had transpired before they all entered his office.

"No, it's just common sense," McGonagall said, "because by now, the entire student body has learned about the nature of Mr. Malfoy's threats — both the father and the son, in fact, and what Miss Potter has endured at the hands of both."

"What? How?" Dumbledore asked with a worried frown. He knew that rumors flew fast in the castle, but he hadn't authorized the release of any specific information.

"There were witnesses, remember?" Jasmine pointed out. "They were as horrified and outraged by his threats as I was. If I hadn't hit him, one or more of them might have." Looking pointedly at Snape, she continued, "Not every wizard in this castle defends or supports rape."

"If Mr. Malfoy is treated leniently like he always is," McGonagall said, "our students will see that as support for rapists. If Miss Potter is treated harshly, the students will see that as an attack on witches who are threatened with rape, which will only fuel their fears and increase the potential for violence."

"And that's before their parents get involved" Jasmine added. "I don't know how many of them have been informed that by now I've had to defend myself against a would-be rapist student just after having to defend myself against his would-be rapist father, yet I'm facing punishment for reacting to those threats the only way I know how, given the failure of the staff to protect me."

"Miss Potter," Dumbledore responded automatically, "I can assure you, Hogwarts is the safest..."

"I've never been safe here!" Jasmine interrupted. She seemed to struggle to not shout at him. "Setting aside all of the threats to my life I've faced in all my other years, do I really need to remind you about the past couple of days alone?" Dumbledore winced at the rebuke. Normally he'd chastise a student for speaking that way to any member of staff, but he couldn't fault her for objecting to something that even he recognized now wasn't a legitimate defense. He'd been unable to protect her from the elder Mr. Malfoy, forcing her to fight to defend herself, so why should she believe that he'd do better with the younger Mr. Malfoy?

Dumbledore slumped wearily in his chair as he removed his spectacles and rubbed his eyes. Snape wasn't paying attention to this and still seemed to expect her to receive a harsh punishment — detention until she graduated, perhaps, if not longer. The other three heads of house, though, were watching both, and were pleased to see that Dumbledore was being convinced.

"I will not be a victim — not any more," Jasmine proclaimed in a strong, steady voice. "I will not allow myself to be victimized, and I will not stand by while anyone else is victimized. Not anymore. Not by Malfoy," she turned and fixed the Potions professor with a steely eye, "and not by anyone else." She turned back to the headmaster, who had not missed the message she had just sent. "That is not negotiable."

"Nor should it be," Flitwick added, getting a curious look from Dumbledore. "If we permit the victimization of students entrusted to us, then we are not doing our jobs anymore."

Dumbledore nodded in response. "Perhaps it is time we take a few steps back and reconsider current policies in light of such principles." This received looks of surprise from everyone there.

With a heavy sigh, he continued, "You have given me a lot to think about, Miss Potter, and I'm ashamed that it needed to be brought to my attention like this at all. I clearly need to give more thought to the protection of you and the other students — more than I have been giving, at any rate." He looked around at each of them before concluding, "I will need to consider things carefully before I make my decision. Because of the seriousness of the issues, I will not act in haste. I will announce my decision tomorrow at lunch."

Recognizing the dismissal, they all exited the office, leaving the headmaster to his thoughts.

* * *

 **Saturday, March 20, 1995, Late Night.**

It was dark in the headmaster's office and had been for hours, though the moon had risen not long ago and would soon bathe the office in silvery light and long shadows. Dumbledore hadn't bothered to light the torches or candles because he felt the darkness was somehow appropriate, given the nature of the circumstances and of his thoughts. He was facing so many different problems that he wasn't sure which way to turn, and every day things got worse instead of better.

Well, maybe not so many different problems, given that the majority seemed to revolve around Jasmine Potter. Her involvement in the tournament. Her kidnapping. The return of Tom through the use of her blood. Her altercation with Mr. Malfoy. Her secret training. Her changes in personality and behavior. The influence Miss Granger had on her. The apparent uprising of the school in support of her.

Normally he had things under control, or at least well managed, but these days so much was out of control — and she seemed to be the most out-of-control of all. Not in the sense of having become wild, but unpredictable. Independent. He didn't want a puppet, but he couldn't afford a loose cannon, either. He had plans and contingencies in place that could be ruined if she wandered too far afield. Her desire to protect victims, for example, fit in nicely with what he and the wizarding world needed. Her willingness to jump to using violence? Not so much. And he wasn't sure how to get her to separate the two, preserving one while abandoning the other.

He needed her defiant in the face of adversity and darkness, but not of the greater good or of wizarding traditions. He needed her determined, but not stubborn; strong, but not ruthless; forceful, but not domineering; brave, but not reckless. In short, he needed someone who would defeat the Dark without themselves becoming dark and thus able to fill the political, social, and magical vacuum he'd leave behind when it came time for his next great adventure.

That wouldn't happen if he couldn't keep her on the right path, and it most certainly wouldn't happen if she abandoned Britain entirely because she objected to the results of how he was managing things. He had to ensure her safety. He had to dampen her apparent reliance on violence. He had to provide her with reasons to want to stay in Britain. And the first step was devising a response to her fight with Mr. Malfoy that satisfied all parties and didn't start a riot among the castle's headstrong witches.

It was times like this he was quite glad of never having gotten involved with the fairer sex. _Why couldn't it have been a_ _ **Boy**_ _Who Lived?_ he asked himself — and not for the first time, either. _A Boy Who Lived would have been_ _ **so**_ _much easier to mold. We could have... bonded or something._


	52. Here Comes the Sun

**A/N:** This chapter contains a scene involving a magical ritual celebration created with elements from both ancient and modern beliefs and practices. It does not describe any actual rituals or celebrations, past or present. See chapter 29 for the full disclaimer about such rituals.

 **Recommendation** : This chapter's recommended fic is "Thresholds" by Stanrick. Most people wake up right where they went to sleep the night before. One morning, though, Harry wakes up someplace very different and very unexpected. And then things start getting strange. H/Hr.

* * *

 **Chapter 52 - Here Comes the Sun**

 **Sunday, March 21, 1995, Early Morning.**

It was 5:30AM — a horrible time to have to be up and moving in general, never mind after such an emotionally and psychologically stressful day as yesterday — but Jasmine and Hermione had promised that they'd go to the Eostre celebration, and they were determined to follow through. Besides, according to Hermione's research, this holiday was not just about fertility, spring, and new life, but also healing and rejuvenation, things which they both definitely could use.

After putting on thin, white shifts and nothing else, they mounted Jasmine's Firebolt and covered themselves in her invisibility cloak. Like last time, they floated carefully out an open dorm window and gently glided down to the Beauxbatons carriage, where Fleur was waiting for them. She surprised them by _not_ being surprised when they whipped off the invisibility cloak, instead acting as though she had known right where they were the entire time.

"Come," she said, "Ze others are already waiting at ze edge of ze forest. We were successful in negotiating with ze centaurs for use of a small clearing for our ritual. Zey will keep zeir distance, but also provide zecurity for ze next several 'ours."

"It won't take that long, will it?" Jasmine asked with a frown.

"Not for everyone," Fleur said with a cryptic smile.

When they reached the edge of the forest, they found that the gathering was almost twice as big as it had been for Imbolc, and it looked like they might all be veela this time. One witch gave each of them a small, circular headpiece made of wildflowers while another, Adrienne, spoke to them in English. "Would the two of you be interested in participating in a larger role?"

The two Gryffindor witches looked at each other briefly before Hermione asked, "What did you have in mind?"

"We need two witches to take on the ritual roles of two spring goddesses of love and fertility," she explained. "This year, we will be honoring Ishtar and Freyja. If they are pleased with us and our ritual, they will bless and multiply our efforts."

"What would we have to do?" Jasmine asked nervously.

"You would have to enter the sacred circle nude instead of shedding your robes with the sunrise," Adrienne said. "You would first be anointed with a consecrated mixture of milk and honey, then enter the circle with chalices of the same mixture; at the signal, you would give some to each participant to drink. You would then distribute seeds and lead us in spreading them along the edge of the clearing. Aside from repeating a few words, that is basically all there is to serving as representatives of the goddesses."

Seeing their nervousness, she added, "In case you're worried, this isn't the sort of ritual where one wrong step can ruin things, like a mispronounced incantation. Intent and attitude are what matter most, not precision in your form. It's what's in your hearts," she said, reaching out and gently touching her fingertips against each of their chests, "that we and the goddesses care about, not your pronunciation or how quickly you walk."

"Are you sure?" Hermione asked. "We're not members of your community or anything. We're only guests."

"Only guests?" Adrienne laughed. "No, my dears, you are much more than that, especially after saving Gabrielle. There is nothing formal, but you both are very much considered friends and family by everyone here. Besides, after what you went through, Miss Potter, I suspect that the benefits of taking one of the ritual roles will help you most of all."

"We... what?" Jasmine asked incoherently. "Really?" She looked around and suddenly realized that everyone was looking at the two of them. Instead of curious stares at her scar or naked hostility, both of which she had long ago resigned herself to, she saw nothing but affection, warmth, openness, and even love from all the other witches present. It was so foreign to her that she actually started to feel a bit uncomfortable, not at all sure how to react; but that feeling was quickly replaced by warmth that seemed to emanate from somewhere deep in her chest.

Jasmine looked at Hermione, who was biting her bottom lip — a sure sign that she was uncertain about what to do. Jasmine suspected that she wanted to, but didn't like the idea of doing something in front of an audience without having practiced. She was also probably unsure about Jasmine's own position: she knew Jasmine was uncomfortable enough about the prospect of being nude for this at all, let alone while everyone was focusing on her.

But then Jasmine remembered her own words from the previous day: _I will not be a victim. I will not be victimized anymore._

 _If I continue to shy away from being the center of attention, aren't I allowing myself to be victimized by those who put me down?_ she asked herself. _If I insist on being ashamed of my body, aren't I allowing my relatives to continue to abuse me by accepting their insults and skewed values?_

Turning to Adrienne, she stood a little straighter, looked her in the eye, and said, "I'll do it." She wasn't nearly as confident as she tried to sound. She wasn't at all certain that defiantly participating in this celebration actually qualified as opposing her victimization. However, she was pretty sure that it at least meant that she was in control and doing something positive — that was a good start, if nothing else.

Looking back at Hermione, she saw surprise, then understanding in her eyes. Her bushy-haired girlfriend also turned to Adrienne to agree to participate as well. The older witch smiled and walked with them on the way to the ritual clearing as she gave them more detailed instructions about what they would do and experience.

When they all arrived at the clearing, a rough circle in the forest about twenty-five meters in diameter, there were already two women tending a small, open fire in the center. In front of it stood an altar much like the last one with a statue of a goddess on either side. While the other witches filed in and took their places around the central fire, Jasmine and Hermione were taken to the side just outside the clearing, where their shifts were removed and two veela began to anoint them with the mixture of milk and honey, using brushes to paint what seemed like runes on their bodies.

Adrienne must have seen the funny face Jasmine made because she asked, "Is everything alright?"

"Sure," Jasmine answered, as the woman finished with her face and began to paint with the mixture on her chest. "It just... well, it tingles. I don't know, it's hard to describe, but it's an odd feeling."

"Yeah," Hermione agreed, "I'm feeling it, too, but I didn't want to say anything because I thought, well, I figured it was just nerves over what we're doing."

"And it **tickles** ," Jasmine added, trying to suppress a squirm as the brush flicked across her skin.

Adrienne smiled and said, "It is a magical substance now, this mixture, and you are feeling its magic beginning to work on you. It was earlier consecrated to Ishtar and Freyja, two goddesses whom you are now representing in our ritual. I think you will feel more than just a bit of tingling before we are done here this morning."

The older veela didn't elaborate, instead explaining more about what they were about to do and the important meanings behind the various words and actions. Once the magical mixture had been fully applied, Adrienne and the other veela entered the clearing and took their places, leaving Jasmine and Hermione to wait for their cue just outside, facing the direction the sun would rise.

"Are you nervous?" Hermione asked softly.

"Bloody hell, Hermione, are you kidding?" Jasmine exclaimed. "Of course I'm nervous!"

"Language!" Hermione admonished automatically.

"Hermione," Jasmine said with a bit of exasperation, "we're starkers in the Forbidden Forest, surrounded by Merlin only knows how many acromantula, centaurs, and other beasts that Hagrid finds 'interesting,' and we're about to walk into a group of naked strangers as representatives of goddesses we know nothing about... well, **I** know nothing about... and you're worried about my _language_? Girl, you need to sort out your priorities."

Hermione squeaked softly, as if Jasmine's little rant only just then made her fully cognizant of everything that was going on. "We **are** starkers, aren't we?"

"Just noticed that, didja?"

"And outside! In the Forbidden Forest!"

"I think all the trees were my first clue," Jasmine said dryly.

"It's just like in the book!" Hermione breathed.

Jasmine looked over and saw that Hermione was blushing. She also discovered that when Hermione blushed, it wasn't limited to just her face. Immediately whipping her head around to face front again, she tried to focus more on what she was supposed to do and less on what Hermione looked like when standing nude in the pre-dawn light.

She wasn't having a lot of luck. Clearing her throat first, she asked, "Uh, what book?"

"Pureheart's book," Hermione answered, still sounding a bit awed. "It's full of, uh, fascinating rituals. Like this one!"

Jasmine looked at her again briefly out of the corner of her eye and said, "Rituals, huh? I think I remember seeing that section, but I didn't bother with it because they didn't seem all that relevant. What's so fascinating about them?

"Well, uh," Hermione responded, apparently struggling to find the right words. "They're, you know, rituals for witches."

"For witches?" Jasmine asked.

"Uh, yeah."

"And let me guess," Jasmine said slowly. "They're mostly outside? And done in the nude?"

Hermione had apparently lost the power of speech by this point because she just nodded her head vigorously, reminding Jasmine a bit of Dobby when he was especially excited about something. _That's just..._ _ **ugh**_ _, I didn't need that mental image!_ she lamented.

Hermione was spared any more embarrassing questions when they heard the voice of one of the women who were leading the morning's ceremony. After a moment, Jasmine remembered that her name was Anaïs.

"On this date we mark the time of the year when dark and light are in perfect balance," Anaïs said. "From this day forward, the light will begin to triumph over the dark; life will triumph over death; fertility and birth will triumph over illness and decline; love and intimacy will triumph over hate and pain. We dedicate ourselves today to the magic of the goddesses so that we can help life and love prevail over death and hate."

With perfect timing, the sun then broke over the trees, filling the clearing with shafts of light and nearly blinding the two Gryffindor witches for a moment. The incredible sight filled them with so much awe and wonder that they momentarily forgot that they were supposed to be doing something. They also started feeling more than just a tingling along their skin; now they also felt buzzing deep in their abdomens and in the back of their minds.

Fortunately, there was only a brief hesitation before they entered the clearing and stepped into the circle of witches, all of whom had already dropped their thin robes. The two young witches began moving in opposite directions around the circle, stopping at each participant to offer them a drink from the chalices they carried. In every case, they would say "for life and love" as they offered the chalice, and the witch would respond with the same before handing it back. And after each exchange, the buzzing they felt grew just a bit stronger.

Jasmine and Hermione met at the far side of the circle from where they started just as the clearing was fully lit. They looked at each other and almost gasped when they saw that the other's eyes were glowing — Jasmine's a pale green and Hermione's a soft blue — but they remembered their roles and proceeded to the altar, where they offered the mixture to the two witches there, then also to each other. They then took bags of seeds from the second woman at the altar and walked back in the opposite direction around the circle, giving a small handful to each witch.

"All life comes from fertilized seed," Anaïs said as Jasmine and Hermione did this. "In order to grow, each seed must struggle to rise up out of the darkness. Seeds may be aided by tender care, but it is up to each seed individually to break out of the dark and into the light, to grow into that which it is meant to be. Every victory of the light over the dark is a struggle, but with enough love and care, life and victory will come. And after each victory, we heal, we grow, and we move on."

Once they were done distributing the seeds to all of the participants, Jasmine and Hermione each led half of the group going in opposite directions around the edge of the clearing, spreading the seeds along the ground. Since they were both concentrating on what they were doing, neither noticed the motes of magical energy that swirled in their wake, dancing around the shocked veela, though they did notice that they were feeling more energized as the ritual went on. When they were all done, the witches resumed their positions with Hermione and Jasmine taking places next to Fleur and Gabrielle.

It was only then that they realized that the milk and honey mixture which they had been anointed with had disappeared, seemingly absorbed directly into their skin. As interesting as that was, though, it wasn't half as fascinating as the fact that their eyes continued to glow. Jasmine felt as though her entire body was vibrating with pent-up magical energy; judging by her expression, Hermione felt the same way.

"Today is a day of new life and new growth," the second leader of the ritual, Morgane, said. "A day for celebrating renewal, restoration, and healing. Go forth and spend the day with those you love in celebration of life and love. Go forth and remind yourselves of why you struggle against the darkness. Go forth and become that which you are meant to be."

All together, the assembled witches raised their hands above them and chanted in unison, "Light and Love, Life and Magic." With a deep **woosh** , Jasmine felt most of the energy rush out of her. It joined bursts of magical energy from the other witches, though it seemed to her that far more had left her and Hermione. All of it met in the fire at the center of the circle, causing the flames to shoot up into the sky. After a moment, the central fire collapsed and a wall of flames seemed to burst outward, travelling through the witches and into the surrounding forest without burning either them or the trees. Jasmine and Hermione felt themselves bent backwards slightly, as if the flames had been as much physical as they were magical, and in their wake they felt warmed, energized, cleansed, and much more that they couldn't quite describe in words.

Adrienne quickly stepped up to Gabrielle, Hermione, and Jasmine while putting on her shift and ushered them out of the clearing where they could put on their own. Along the way, Jasmine witnessed a multitude of brightly colored flowers bursting up out of the ground where they had spread their seeds.

When Jasmine gasped, Adrienne noticed where she was looking and said, "The ritual gathers up our individual magic, combines, enhances, and multiplies it, and then sends it out to nurture new life. The better the intentions and the greater the love of the participants, the more the goddesses are pleased and the more they multiply the magic we offer up, which leads to more new growth. Usually it doesn't go far beyond the area of the ritual circle, but with the addition of you two, I think a large area of this forest will experience new growth this spring. I've also never seen it happen so fast, but that probably shouldn't be surprising."

Once they were dressed, Adrienne said, "I will escort you out of the forest so you can return to your castle and Gabrielle can return to our carriage." Gabrielle looked a bit sulky at being excluded from what was coming, but at the same time she seemed pleased to be with Jasmine and Hermione.

"What about the others?" Hermione asked.

"For veela, this ritual is usually celebrated among those who are closest and most intimate with each other," Adrienne explained. "This allows for more... amorous activities to celebrate the dawning of spring. Some just as couples, others in larger groups. Gabrielle is still a bit too young, and I didn't think you two would be willing to participate."

"Uh, no, that's OK," Jasmine said quickly. "Sorry."

"No apologies are necessary," Adrienne responded with a soft laugh while Gabrielle pouted.

"Wait!" Hermione said quickly. "Do you... do you know?"

Adrienne smiled indulgently. "Veela can perceive connections between people. To us, your relationship is rather obvious."

"And she's French," Jasmine quipped, causing Adrienne to laugh harder.

"Regardless," the French witch continued, "we all knew it would be too awkward for you and didn't expect you to stay." She looked back and forth between the two of them before continuing, "You did feel more than just a bit of tingling, am I right?" They nodded, not quite trusting their voices. "Well, that was the fertility magic, created by you and enhanced by the goddesses, which made it possible for you to play your roles. Most of it left you and then dispersed — some into the other witches, but most into the forest where it encourages growth. In humans, the fertility magic has… different effects. The others are right now vigorously working off those effects."

Both Jasmine and Hermione blushed hard at the thought of what their magic was inciting others to do right at that moment.

"Also," she explained, "some consider those activities to be an extension of the ritual itself, though less structured and formal. Some believe that any act of love or pleasure is pleasing to the goddesses. Thus we had a formal ritual that was fueled by love, which pleased the goddesses enough to enhance the magic which everyone offered up, which in turn is fueling the love that the participants are even now expressing in a sacred circle, which then pleases the goddesses once more. It is a cycle which mirrors the endless cycle of birth, life, love, and death in nature. Not all veela hold to this, but many do."

This added thoughtful looks to the two younger witches' blushing. "Uh, death?" Hermione asked. "Where does death come into what we did or, uh, what comes after?"

Adrienne gave a wry grin. "Death, little death... perhaps you have to be French to understand."

Hermione wasn't French, but she knew enough to start blushing even harder and didn't stop until they reached the edge of the forest.

"This is where we must part, Miss Potter, Miss Granger," Adrienne said.

"Please, call us Jasmine and Hermione," Jasmine responded, and Hermione nodded in agreement.

"Very well," Adrienne said with a smile. "Au revoir, Jasmine and Hermione."

Once back at the carriage, Jasmine and Hermione said goodbye to Gabrielle before getting back under the cloak and flying up to Gryffindor Tower.

Gabrielle continued to watch where she thought they were, just as her eyes hadn't left Jasmine from the moment she'd stepped into the ritual circle earlier. She'd never participated in this sort of ritual celebration before — Imbolc had been her first and had been toned down significantly — but she knew that those two witches had taken the ritual to a place that was completely new and unprecedented. Her magic was practically singing in response to the experience, and she wondered if Jasmine Potter had merely been a representative of the goddesses, or if something far more profound had occurred

* * *

Once back in their dorm, the two settled in behind Jasmine's bed curtains to relax in the afterglow of the ritual. They felt full of energy, but at the same time they didn't really feel like going out and doing anything. Instead, they simply wanted to rest. "That... that was pretty intense," Jasmine finally said. "I never thought I'd ever be a part of something like that."

"Oh, I know," Hermione responded excitedly. "It was like the descriptions I read in the book, but at the same time it was so much more!

"So, that was fairly typical?" Jasmine asked. "Even, you know, what they're still out there doing?"

Hermione reddened once more, not just at the thought of what might be going on, but at the fact that the magic she and Jasmine had generated was helping to fuel it. "Mostly, I think," she eventually replied. "Adrienne seemed to indicate that not all veela, uh, continue on like that, but it was a common theme in the rituals described by Pureheart."

"Oh?" Jasmine asked.

"Well," Hermione said, seamlessly slipping into her professor mode, "the rituals described in the book are powered primarily by love and pleasure and are enhanced significantly by invoking those goddesses who regard all acts of love as being pleasing to them. On that second point there is a lot of overlap with how the veela do things, but perhaps not so much on the first. The goddesses cited most often by Pureheart are those who specifically favor harmony, unity, love, and most of all, witches. Whether that's true or not with the veela, I don't know, though it seems likely."

Stopping to take a breath finally, she continued, "As for the, uh, continuing activities, I think that Pureheart regarded them as a natural extension of the love and pleasure that play a central role in the rituals themselves. And it makes sense, I guess. If your ritual is powered by love and pleasure, and if you are invoking goddesses who are concerned with love and pleasure, what would be the point in not... well, enjoying love and pleasure as part of the magic?"

Jasmine eyed her skeptically, forcing Hermione to ask, "What?"

"Are you sure that isn't just a fancy rationalization for shagging a lot?" she asked bluntly. "Publicly?"

"Well," Hermione replied, suddenly looking uncomfortable, "to be quite honest, no, not entirely." When Jasmine started smirking, she quickly continued, "But you can't deny the powerful magic involved — magic that's generated by love and pleasure then fueling love, pleasure, fertility, and all that. And now that you bring it up, anyone participating simply to have a good time wouldn't have the right intentions to fuel the magic. So while shagging might be icing on the cake, so to speak, it can't be the primary purpose or motive. If it were, it wouldn't work."

Jasmine suddenly looked thoughtful and it was Hermione's turn to smirk a little. Instead of gloating, though, she pulled her girlfriend close. "How are you feeling, by the way?" she asked.

"Very good, actually," Jasmine answered. "I feel... relaxed. More at peace with myself and what's happened to me. It's really hard to explain, and I'm not sure when exactly it happened, but I feel a lot better now than when I woke up this morning."

"Good," Hermione said with a yawn. "When I read about how part of the purpose of Eostre is healing, I was hoping it would be good for you. Maybe acting as representatives of the goddesses helped a bit, too." After a moment of silence, she asked, "What made you decide to volunteer, anyway? That was just about the last thing I would have expected you to do."

Jasmine shrugged. "It occurred to me that running scared, which was my first reaction, meant letting others dictate my life — people like my relatives or Draco. I don't want to be a victim anymore, and I think that in order not to be a victim, I have to take control of my life more."

Hermione smiled and said, "That definitely sounds like a form of healing."

Jasmine just squeezed her girlfriend a bit tighter as they dozed off, smiling and happy.

* * *

 **Sunday, March 21, 1995, Lunch.**

The Great Hall was uncharacteristically full for lunch on a Sunday; in fact, Minerva McGonagall thought that even during the week, it wasn't usually this full. Clearly, word had spread during breakfast, and everyone had learned that the headmaster would be making an announcement about Mr. Malfoy and Miss Potter during lunch. That was probably for the best. Albus would have had formal notices posted in the common rooms, but he hadn't wanted to draw any more official attention to this than was necessary.

The simple fact was, disciplinary decisions typically were and should be made in private, not in front of a crowd. She knew that to him this sort of thing seemed like spectacle or theater, and while as a politician he had great appreciation for both, he was loathe to employ them when it came to disciplining students. It just didn't sit well with him because no matter how it was structured or presented, it always seemed designed to add humiliation to the punishment, and he hated to humiliate students.

That was something she still agreed with him completely on, and she had been pleased to see that this was one principle of his that hadn't been compromised. Unfortunately, given how this incident had already become fodder for public debate and arguments, he didn't have much choice but to go public as well. Based on what he was told by the heads of house, he needed to address this publicly in order to maintain order and discipline.

As the lunch period wore on, McGonagall looked around and noticed two conspicuous absences. Well, Draco Malfoy was also absent, but he was in the hospital wing and thus accounted for. "Minerva," Dumbledore said as he leaned towards her, "have you seen Miss Potter this morning? She really should be here for this."

"No, Albus, I'm afraid I haven't," she responded, not giving voice to her suspicions. Today was Eostre, and she suspected that the two witches had celebrated it with the veela this morning. They hadn't told her that they'd been invited, but they'd also been awfully preoccupied during the past few days, so she couldn't exactly hold that against them.

Just then, the two missing Gryffindors walked into the Great Hall looking very happy and relaxed, which McGonagall thought probably confirmed her suspicions about where they had been that morning. They seemed to freeze when they were greeted with rounds of cheers and applause from three of the four tables, but they quickly remembered themselves and found seats at their house table.

Near the end of the lunch period, Professor Dumbledore rose and tapped his spoon against his glass to get everyone's attention. The gesture was unnecessary because as soon as he had moved, the entire hall had gone deathly quiet. This was what most of them had been anxiously waiting for. Minerva looked around carefully, making note of which students looked hostile and which ones were optimistic.

"May I have everyone's attention," Dumbledore said. "I expect that you're all already aware of the physical altercation that occurred yesterday. Indeed, it is because of the general interest in it that I'm speaking to you like this — matters of discipline are normally handled in private for a reason." Dumbledore looked sternly at the students when he said this, as if to communicate that they shouldn't expect such spectacles to become a regular occurrence.

"Both students involved will receive a two month ban on visiting Hogsmeade as well as two weeks of detentions." This was immediately greeted with hostile murmurings.

"They're not really going to punish you the same as Malfoy, are they?" Miss Granger whispered loudly enough to be heard up at the staff table. Minerva wondered if she simply didn't care that she'd be heard or if she had been that loud deliberately. Either was possible, given her relationship with Miss Potter and her reduced respect for the headmaster.

"Silence!" Dumbledore said loudly to still the growing noise. "One of those involved, however, instigated the altercation. While the staff does not normally give much weight to the defense that one was 'provoked,' in this case the provocation was so extreme, so very much beyond the pale, that it cannot be ignored. For that reason, the instigator will receive another two months detentions on top of the original two weeks. Their ban on Hogsmeade will be extended for the rest of this term and continue for the first two months of next term."

Now the hall broke out into what very nearly sounded like cheering, at least from three of the four tables. Minerva herself felt satisfied with the headmaster's decision. Ideally she'd rather not see Miss Potter punished at all — given the nature of the provocation and the context in which it had been made, her reaction had actually been rather restrained. She had told Dumbledore as much during the heads of house meeting that morning, pointing out that they were probably lucky that she had chosen to simply use her fists against Mr. Malfoy instead of casting at him the same fireball spell she'd previously used against his father.

Everyone had quailed at the thought, especially given the fact that no one had heard yet if the man was alive or dead. While the headmaster didn't disagree, he did rightly point out that the maintenance of order and discipline didn't permit them to ignore her actions entirely.

 _We can't set a precedent that one student can physically or magically assault another without repercussions if they claim sufficient verbal provocation_ , she thought. _No matter how justified she may have been, others with less justification will try to get away with the same thing, and we risk creating an even more dangerous environment. It's fortunate that she was willing to accept a basic punishment; if she'd fought it, we might have had a riot on our hands. As it is, I'll take over her detentions and will ensure that they serve to benefit her rather than punish her. The same will_ _ **not**_ _be true for Mr. Malfoy, I'll see to that._

"Silence!" Dumbledore thundered. "On top of that, the staff will be taking a hard line against all forms of bullying, physical and verbal. There will be no tolerance of epithets about blood status or gender. Physical altercations like what happened yesterday must not happen again, and we will impose harsh punishments on those who deliberately provoke fights as the student did yesterday."

 _And it's about time_ , Minerva thought. _I've been pushing for this sort of thing for years! I know the rest of the staff are thrilled about this, too_. _Well, all the rest of the staff but one._ She took a careful look at the Slytherin table and noted how upset they all looked. _It's such a shame they've been taught that ambition and cunning require bigotry, bullying, and prejudice._

She didn't bother looking over at Snape — she had a pretty good idea he was holding on tight to the blank mask he tried to wear all the time. Some of his true feelings had come out in the morning's meeting, and they hadn't been pleasant at all. She despaired sometimes over whether he'd ever grow up.

"I hope this will put an end to any rumors or speculation about how the staff will handle incidents like this in the future," Dumbledore said in conclusion. "You may now return to your lunch."

* * *

Albus Dumbledore looked around the Great Hall as everyone absorbed the announcement he had made. This had been one of the most trying disciplinary issues he'd had to deal with in a long, long time — perhaps even more difficult than the time that Sirius Black had nearly caused the death of Severus Snape.

Looking over at the Gryffindor table, he caught Jasmine Potter's eye and nodded very slightly, receiving a nod in return. Her expression was not open or friendly, and he couldn't blame her for that, but he was glad that she had enough respect for his decision to give him that small sign of acknowledgment. It could have been worse... much worse, in fact.

Had she insisted on not being punished at all — which, if he were honest, wouldn't have been entirely unreasonable from her perspective — he'd have been caught between a rock and a hard place. Not punishing her would have set a bad precedent; punishing her might have led to a riot, or at the very least an insurrection. Both choices would have been completely unpalatable and would have undermined the functioning of the school.

Instead, she showed wisdom and maturity by proposing a compromise: she accepted something she didn't want in exchange for ensuring that she achieved an important goal. _The students see that both provoking a fight and giving in to provocation are punishable, which helps maintain order and discipline._

Dumbledore couldn't help but smile at the wisdom that her proposal showed. _I couldn't have taught her better myself_ , he mused. _It shows that she may be more prepared to learn about politics and move in the political sphere than I had imagined. That, however, makes finding a way for her to survive her horcrux all the more imperative because it would make her loss even more tragic for the long-term health of our world. Assuming, of course, she doesn't pick up and leave... I'll need to talk to Minerva about that, once she calms down a bit more._

Dumbledore was mistaken about one thing, though: despite his best attempts, he had created a martyr. It could have been worse — had he punished her solely or harshly, she'd have become a martyr that inspired a riot. Instead, she became a martyr for a movement. What witches (and some wizards) saw was not that responding to provocation would lead to punishment, as Dumbledore assumed; instead they saw that no matter how badly beaten and abused a witch might be, the current system would still allow her to be punished by those in power if she dared strike back against those who wanted to hurt her.

It was such a small event in the grand scheme of things, but even the mightiest tree starts from a tiny seed.

* * *

 **Sunday, March 21, 1995, Night.**

Severus Snape sat in the dark in his quarters in the Hogwarts dungeon. He could have lit the room, but he felt more comfortable in the dark, especially right now. It wasn't a good time for light, not with the way he was feeling and certainly not with the direction he saw events around him going. It had been a long, trying day. A long, trying week, in fact, and he was sure that things would only get worse.

First that Potter brat was stupid enough to allow herself to get kidnapped right out of the castle and used in a ritual to restore the Dark Lord. Then Malfoy had to open his big mouth, inadvertently imitating his father both in his words and in allowing himself to be thoroughly beaten by Potter. _Perhaps I went a bit too far in pushing for her expulsion_ , he thought ruefully, _but it never occurred to me that it would probably lead to her death._

Now Slytherin, and Malfoy in particular, had lost face in front of the rest of the school. The boy had made a power play and lost, badly — everyone knew it. It would be difficult for him to regain his power and influence, even among Slytherins. Snape shuddered at the thought of what the boy's father would do when he found out. _Assuming Lucius is still alive, that is._

Snape shook his head as he took another sip of his firewhiskey. He hadn't yet received a call from the Dark Lord, but he was sure that his Dark Mark would start burning any time now. Then he would have to resume the very dangerous task of providing information to opposing sides in a renewed war — enough information to be useful, but not so much that the other side would stop trusting him.

One way or another, though, he would survive. He just needed to remain deep enough in the shadows and avoid too much attention.

* * *

Lord Voldemort looked imperiously around at his new throne room in Malfoy Manor. He had gotten the impression that Lucius had hoped he would remain at his original location rather than demand to be taken in after the completion of the ritual. Ha! As if Lord Voldemort would deign to stay in that filthy muggle dwelling for one minute longer than was necessary — and that was even without considering the Potter brat's escape, which made the Riddle estate and Little Hangleton much too unsafe.

Voldemort frowned at being reminded of how Potter had managed to evade her proper punishment. Everything had been arranged perfectly. There should have been no way for her to even think about fighting back, much less do so successfully and then get away to tell others about what happened. The only saving grace was that Minister Fudge didn't believe that the Dark Lord had returned.

They were looking for dark wizards, which was inconvenient, but since there was no alarm out about him in particular, magical Britain would remain complacent and naive as he began moving his people into power. Still, that didn't excuse his followers for having allowed her to get away like that. He'd had to torture them all several times in order to drive the point home that such failures wouldn't be tolerated. He'd tortured Wormtail a few extra times, just for good measure. If they couldn't control one underaged witch, they didn't deserve to be Death Eaters — and there was no early retirement from the service of Lord Voldemort.

It was a pity about Lucius, though. He was very lucky to have survived that spell from the Potter brat. Her spell might not have been dark enough to create permanent burn scars, but Voldemort had forbidden him from healing them all the same. In fact, he had surreptitiously cast a curse on Lucius to ensure that they couldn't be healed. The man had always been too vain anyway, and those new scars that covered his body — including his once-handsome face — would not only remind him about the price of failure, but hopefully also inspire him to work harder to get Potter.

Voldemort picked up the small bell and rang it. He was hungry, and he did so love forcing pureblood women like Narcissa to wait on him hand and foot like a house elf. _Hopefully We'll be able to keep this meal down_ , he thought. _We still have no idea why We were so ill early this morning and late yesterday afternoon, but We can't afford to show any weakness to these people._

He'd always hated the pureblood elite in Slytherin when he was at school and resented them for their money, heirlooms, and histories. He considered the fact that he'd co-opted their prejudices to create a movement in which they rushed to debase themselves lower than the most menial muggle servant to be perhaps the greatest prank in wizarding history.

Voldemort smiled as Narcissa rushed in, head bowed low and food tray held high. She'd gotten quite good at that after he'd used the _Cruciatus_ on her for her early failures. Once his meal was done, though, he'd have to return to work. Tonight it would be time to finally summon Severus from Hogwarts and see what the slippery Potions Master had to say for himself.


	53. You Say You Want a Revolution?

**Recommendation** : This chapter's recommended fic is "I have an Idea, Harry" by Cloud Zen. Harry needs to be careful about what he says around Hermione, because even the most innocuous comments can lead to wild ideas for her... ideas that revolutionize the world, no less. H/Hr.

* * *

 **Chapter 53 - You Say You Want a Revolution?**

 **Monday, March 22, 1995, Early Morning.**

The Gatekeeper practically stomped the entire way to the office. _Never before has there been a call requiring me to go into work so early in the morning_ , the powerful goblin thought, _hours before I normally even wake up, never mind leave for the office._ _This had better be a legitimate, Honest-to-Goddess emergency, or I swear I'll start refurbishing the Bet Bel's old dungeon and torture chamber in preparation for receiving some new guests!_

All pleasant thoughts about torturing annoying assistants who woke goblins up at horribly early hours vanished once the Gatekeeper saw the new file that was lying on the desk. It took nearly an hour to read it through twice, then another hour to cross reference some of the information with other files. Now possessing a reasonably complete picture of the situation, the Gatekeeper leaned back with closed eyes, taking several deep breaths to achieve a measure of calm. It wouldn't do to pull the old axe off the back wall and start destroying the furniture in a fit of bloodlust.

 _Voldemort! And what they reportedly did to that young witch—_

 _No, be calm, breathe deeply…._

It helped to focus on practical matters. The reason why she had been entered into that bizarre tournament now seemed clear, but the veela interest in her was still a mystery. _They certainly have no desire to see him come to power, but it's a British issue, and they have no interests in Britain. Well, until now with those two witches. Could they be preparing to make a political or economic move on Britain? Unlikely. They'd pick different representatives... probably. There is some value in going first to younger people who have yet to establish any allegiances. Forming such a relationship with the famous Girl Who Lived and an intelligent muggleborn might mean they are playing a very long game._

 _Alternatively,_ the Gatekeeper considered, _they could be worried that Voldemort will win in Britain and spread quickly to France. Could they be acting preemptively against a guaranteed foe?_

The Gatekeeper's eyes snapped open upon reaching that conclusion. Britain was about to be embroiled in a magical civil war, of that there was no doubt. The only question was how quickly it would develop. That would impact banking interests and require some significant financial shifts. If the veela were making a move, however, that would involve more than just the bank.

It had been a long, long time since the veela had armed themselves for war, and if that's what was happening, the Goblin Nation would have to follow suit. Even though they themselves were surely not going to be targeted, it was the prudent thing to do. If nothing else, anything that threatened the veela that much was also a threat to the goblins... and that arguably described Voldemort, at least when it came to the British branch of Gringotts.

 _It's too soon to begin assembling the Horde, though_ , the Gatekeeper decided. _I could be wrong about this, and once something like that is started it can take on a life of its own. Wars have started simply because the troops had been gathered and the commanders in charge panicked. I won't recommend that we start down a path to war without being a whole lot more sure of my conclusions._

That only left one option, which was to call an emergency meeting of the Bet Bel. The Gatekeeper had already arranged to have this topic addressed at the next regular session, but a special session would now be needed.

* * *

 **Monday, March 22, 1995, Afternoon.**

Fleur listened to her sister's contented purring as they snuggled together on the couch. Now that the ritual was over, Gabrielle was clearly enjoying being reunited with her family. All around them, the room was filled with relaxed, happy veela, lounging and cuddling. Even the Amazzi were looking relaxed and content. Normally they'd have been standing guard at the door because Amazzi are never truly "off duty," but the sheer power of the ritual yesterday had been so great that the stern and imposing veela warriors had been thrown for a loop.

"Adrienne?" her mother asked, "whatever possessed you to ask those two to serve in the role of the goddesses? I thought it had been agreed that you and I would do it?"

"I don't care where the idea came from," Phoebe declared, "just so long as you keep getting ideas like that — and keep speaking up when you do!" This produced laughter and a chorus of agreement from around the room, but Fleur's mother was not deterred.

"Well?" she asked as she looked down at the blonde head in her lap which she had been gently stroking.

Adrienne sighed and responded, "I honestly don't know. It just came to me and seemed like the right thing to do. I knew that Miss Potter was in need of healing and thought that representing one of the goddesses would help. I also thought that it would help both of them to feel more comfortable around us in the long run if they could participate more actively in what we do. It... well, it all seemed reasonable. But I don't know why the idea originally came to me."

"One of the goddesses, perhaps?" came a suggestion from one of the veela guests.

"I've never heard of that happening," Apolline said, "but we're deep into very ancient and powerful magics here. There's the prophecy, the special bond between those two witches, the ritual itself... I guess we can't really exclude anything at this point."

"Like I said, I don't care," Phoebe said. "I can't begin to count how many ritual celebrations I've participated in over the years, but I've never experienced anything like that before. The build up, the wave of magic that engulfed us at the end, and then afterwards.… It's like the goddesses were right there with us, filling us with power and magic."

"It's a good thing the centaurs were so understanding," Fleur said. In truth, the centaurs had been shocked at what they discovered and had probably been so accommodating because they had no idea what else to do in that situation.

"Indeed," Adrienne said dryly. "I've never even heard of a communion lasting that long."

"I'm surprised **we** lasted that long," Apolline added. "Twenty-four hours has got to be a record, no matter what the circumstances."

"Yet I don't feel tired," Phoebe said. "I feel... relaxed. But also invigorated. Powerful. Like I could do anything right now, though I don't feel a burning urge to actually do anything. And there's a tingling sensation all over, too." She sighed. "Regardless, those two witches were amazing. I have no idea why you suggested them or how they did that. All I know is, I'd follow them anywhere."

Everyone went still as silence descended on the room. Adrienne sat up abruptly from Apolline's lap and looked hard at the two Amazzi — warriors whose dedication and loyalty were so incorruptible as to be beyond question.

"Phoebe?" the other Amazzi, Areto, asked with a touch of concern in her voice. They stared at each other in confusion, then Areto nodded and said, "You're right, I feel it too."

Everyone started looking around at each other, realization sinking in that something very fundamental had shifted for all of them.

* * *

"Mother!" came Sirius' voice from the kitchen.

"Sirius," she responded wearily, "I told you to leave me be…." And she had, because she was starting to feel overwhelmed with the amount of information she'd had to absorb recently. She didn't know if it was because she was in a portrait now, but she found that she needed to rest and even sleep regularly in order to properly organize her thoughts.

And oh, how she missed being able to have a cup of tea!

"No, Mother, this is important," Sirius said insistently as he held out a letter. "I've finally heard from Jasmine about what happened to her. Phineas was right, it's Voldemort. He's back, and he used my goddaughter in some sort of black ritual to regain a body!"

Walburga quailed at that news. "I had hoped that Jasmine Dorea's stories about the Dark Lord still being alive and seeking a body had been… well, the product of an overly excitable imagination."

"I'll confess that I did as well," Sirius said.

"Tell me everything," she commanded, and he did. Jasmine's letter was amazingly thorough... or perhaps "disturbingly" so, given how awful her experiences were. Sirius had to pause more than once to collect himself, and Walburga didn't blame him.

When he was done she had him fetch Phineas, who was able to report about what Dumbledore had been doing over the past few days to gather supporters for opposing Voldemort, even though he had to be cautious about who could be told the full truth. He was also able to give them the headmaster's perspective on the punishments which Jasmine and Draco Malfoy had received for their altercation, something else that was in the letter and which Sirius had been waiting to hear about.

"I think we'll have to start moving our plans forward," Walburga finally announced.

"Plans?" Sirius asked. "We, uh, have plans?"

"Of course we do," Walburga answered. "We are Blacks — we always have plans, plots, and schemes. In you, they simply manifest themselves as childish pranks."

Sirius couldn't help grinning at that — it almost sounded like a compliment. "And what sorts of plans are we moving forward, Mother dearest?

Scowling, she responded, "The sorts of plans that will protect your goddaughter and secure her a better place in our society while helping her strike down her enemies, the Dark Lord chief among them."

"I like the sound of that," Sirius said, "but I'd want to hear the details first." He wasn't sure he liked the evil smile that appeared on the portrait's face, but as far as he knew, she hadn't steered him wrong yet.

* * *

 **Tuesday, March 23, 1995, Evening.**

When Jasmine entered the Transfiguration classroom for her detention, accompanied, of course, by Hermione, the surprise on her face when she saw Professor Flitwick sitting there with Professor McGonagall was quite evident. "Are we interrupting something?" she asked. "Should we wait outside?"

"No, no, my dear Miss Potter," Flitwick said in his usual jovial voice, happy to finally have this conversation. "I'm here to see you. I thought that since you had to be here anyway, this would be a good time to talk to you in private and without interrupting your schedule."

The two Gryffindor witches seated themselves at a pair of desks up front while Flitwick sat up on the edge of the teacher's desk and McGonagall sealed and silenced the door. Jasmine and Hermione looked at each other in confusion, clearly growing concerned at what this might be about.

"You two have nothing to worry about, nothing at all," Flitwick reassured them. "I was hoping to talk to you, Miss Potter, about your fight in the graveyard. We can do it with or without Miss Granger present, it's entirely up to you." Seeing the distress on her face, he continued, "I know that you've gone through your story twice already, but I'd like to approach it from a different and hopefully more productive direction."

At her puzzled expression, he explained, "Your first run-through was for the DMLE, yes? They were looking for evidence to solve a case. And I'm guessing that your second with your friends was just letting them know what happened?" Jasmine nodded. "I'd like to approach the fight as your teacher — specifically, I'd like to treat the incident as a teaching experience, discussing what you did right, what you did wrong, and what you could have done differently."

"This probably won't be the last time you'll have a fight like that," McGonagall said sadly, "but the more you learn from your fights now, the better you'll be able to survive future encounters."

"Indeed," Flitwick said, "and the sooner the better — while the details are still fresh. But if it's too much for you right now, we can put it off." He stopped then and waited to see how the auburn-haired witch would react. He observed a series of emotions move across her face: discomfort, fear, worry, and finally resignation. When Miss Granger took her hand, though, she seemed to straighten a little and find her courage.

"OK, Professor," she said. "Where do you want me to start?"

Flitwick smiled, glad that she was willing to do this despite how difficult it obviously was for her. He knew that retelling the story would eventually help her get past the emotional trauma. He also knew that discussing her choices would help ensure that she didn't get caught up too much in pondering "what ifs," something that could incapacitate her in the future.

"Let's start at the beginning, when you woke up the first time," Flitwick said. "But instead of just telling me what you did, we'll review **why** you chose to take some particular action, or instead chose to not act. And remember, you did make it out of there alive, which is the most important thing. So even if there were times that you could have made a better choice, you still chose well enough in the end."

Jasmine gave a wan smile at his reassurances, and with her girlfriend holding her hand, she once more recounted her experiences after being kidnapped. This time, though, she found that she didn't mind it so much. While never as analytical or academic as Hermione, she discovered that analyzing her decisions with the help of her professors did indeed reduce the impact of the events, giving her some emotional distance she very much needed.

* * *

 **Wednesday, March 24, 1995, Afternoon.**

Hellraiser II rhythmically tapped her long, sharp, manicured claws against the surface of the massive obsidian table. Meetings of the Bet Bel were usually quite important, but she had little patience for being called in for an emergency session like this — especially without being informed in advance about what was so important that it required such measures. Only the Gatekeeper and the Queen herself had the authority to call emergency sessions, and it was a power her subordinate had invoked only once before. As the Gatekeeper was one of her most trusted lieutenants, she knew it had to be a serious matter, but that didn't mean she enjoyed being kept in the dark like this.

Hellraiser stopped her tapping as she saw the last of the members of the Bet Bel file in, releasing the guards to step back into the hall and shut the double doors behind them. The Gatekeeper approached the doors and pressed her hand against the Council seal that was carved into them, half on one door and half on the other. As she did so, the seal glowed and the two doors fused into one, then merged into the surrounding rock wall.

Turning to the table where the council members had taken their seats, she announced, "Honored members of the Bet Bel, Your Majesty, the room is now sealed. We are secure from all forms of eavesdropping or communication. Nothing can get in or out. We may begin."

Hellraiser nodded and picked up the ancient, fist-sized rock and banged it against the table three times. A smooth sphere that was polished so highly that it shone back her reflection, it was made from a solid piece of metal that was said to have fallen from the sky; it had served this ritual function for as long as the Bet Bel had existed, back before humans even walked the surface in their current form. "I call this emergency session of the Bet Bel to order."

With the formalities concluded, she addressed the Gatekeeper directly. "Gatekeeper, you called us here today," she said slowly. "It's only the second time you've ever done that. The first was in 1973 when the muggle nations in the Middle East announced an oil embargo against other muggle nations. I trust this has at least as much importance to our bottom line?"

"Yes, my Queen," the Gatekeeper said as she met the gazes of the councilmembers around her. "The crisis we may be facing has the potential to be even more serious. It goes well beyond a few muggles squabbling over resources and threatens to impact us directly. Worst-case scenario: the Goblin Nation will be at war."

That got everyone's attention.

"I need to explain to you all several seemingly disparate sets of facts, all of which are interesting and in some cases even significant but which, when taken together, paint a potentially disturbing picture of our future." The Gatekeeper then passed around parchment with an outline of events and proceeded to tell about Voldemort's return in Britain, the unwilling involvement of a witch named Jasmine Potter, the curious relationship she seemed to have with a muggleborn witch named Hermione Granger, and the inexplicable involvement of the veela with both girls.

Added to all of that was further information relating to the veela which she'd been able to dig up, the most important of which was a sharp increase in orders for goblin weapons and armor, particularly those types known to be favored by veela warriors, and an even bigger increase in veela diplomatic activity with all of the nations where veela had enclaves of any size.

The room was quiet as everyone digested the news and pored over the outline.

"Conclusions, Gatekeeper?" asked Sharpaxe, the lone male goblin in the room and a representative for their military and security forces. Since the Gatekeeper had been collecting data on this for a while and was the most familiar with all the details, they would listen to her opinions first.

"There are two potential worst-case scenarios," she responded. "The first is that the veela are making a major move on Great Britain, a nation where to the best of our knowledge they have never tried to develop political or economic interests, at least not in the past thousand years."

"Those harpies haven't done anything like that in millennia!" objected Cildfestre, representative for the healers.

"Indeed," the Gatekeeper agreed, "which is why I deem that the less likely of the two. The second is that Voldemort will be successful in taking over magical Britain, and perhaps even muggle Britain, then turn his attention to conquest elsewhere. The veela have somehow become aware that this is very likely, perhaps through the Potter witch, and are moving to stop him early — again, perhaps by using the Potter witch, since she is supposed to have done exactly that once before, though I imagine that they might use their own forces to engage Voldemort's followers."

There were several nods around the table as various goblins agreed that this scenario seemed disturbingly plausible, even if it were uncharacteristic of the veela to stick their feathered necks out so far.

"Is that also the most likely scenario," Faegrian, representative for the jewelsmiths asked, "or are there other, less terrible scenarios that you anticipate coming to pass?"

"I am reluctant to label it the most likely. It seems implausible that the veela would come into possession of intelligence that could cause them to see Voldemort's victory as so likely that they would intervene," the Gatekeeper answered. "On the other hand, any alternatives assume that the veela have come into some other unknown intelligence that is equally important — so important that they are behaving in a very uncharacteristic manner."

"So what the veela are doing," summarized Blostm, "depends entirely on some bit of intelligence which they seem to have discovered, but which we are ignorant about."

"Exactly," the Gatekeeper replied. "If we knew what this information was, then we'd be able to form more accurate conclusions about their intentions. Right now, all we can do is guess… and our guesses may not be correct."

Everyone in the room began arguing about what the mysterious information could be or how the goblins might be able to acquire it. Hellraiser II, however, remained still and kept her eyes on the Gatekeeper, noting that her posture spoke of nervousness and uncertainty. She'd known the Gatekeeper for decades, long before she had even become the Gatekeeper, and had rarely seen her this nervous.

The goblin ruler raised one hand, silently commanding everyone to stop. Once the room was quiet, she leaned forward very slightly and said, "I take it that you have a suggestion for us, Gatekeeper?"

As all eyes shifted to her, she answered, "Yes, I do. We have no spies or intelligence sources among the veela, which means we have no information on what their current leadership is like, their present military readiness, or what any of their long-term goals might be. We have one intelligence source in Hogwarts, but that is limited. We have a business relationship with the witches, but it is quite new. We have no idea if they even know anything important." She looked around, noting how annoyed everyone was to be reminded about what they didn't have.

"So," she continued, "I propose that we get the information directly from the bird's beak, so to speak." Observing the confusion around the table, she added, "I propose that we simply ask them. We send a special envoy, point out what we've observed, note that some of the possible explanations would be perceived as threats to the Goblin Nation, and ask if they'd be willing to share their reasons for what they are doing."

The storm of protest was swift and vehement. "An emissary?" demanded one member incredulously. "Ask for information? Like a beggar?" seethed another. No one seemed to think much of the suggestion, but Hellraiser II didn't join in any of the debate. Instead, she simply sat there in thoughtful silence.

After letting the Bet Bel argue for a few minutes, she once more raised her hand to command attention. In the stillness that followed, she looked at the Gatekeeper and asked, "Why would they bother? What would be in it for them to share any information with us?"

"If they flat out refuse to even consider sharing information," the Gatekeeper answered, "then that might qualify as evidence that their intentions are contrary to our interests." Seeing many nods of agreement, she continued, "Our emissary should make it clear that we aren't simply assuming their hostility, however. Instead, she should communicate our desire to form a partnership if, in fact, there is some problem that would affect both our nations."

Hellraiser nodded slowly and said, "If it really is a serious threat, they may welcome our help and share the information in order to get it. If they consider it then decline, it may not be a serious threat to us, but they may be trying to hoard potential profits for themselves."

"It has been over a century since we've sent any sort of ambassador to the veela," Blostm pointed out. "Our commercial exchanges haven't required it, and they haven't initiated any direct contact with us, so they may not receive anyone we send. If they do, however, then simply having someone there may provide important information — not just on this matter, but on others as well."

"I don't like the idea of debasing ourselves, going before them like supplicants," objected Gaersum, representative of the curse breakers. "But they are worthy competitors, and an offer of partnership has a better ring to it." She turned to the Gatekeeper and said, "That is a fair idea, and while I am not optimistic that it will achieve anything, I doubt it can hurt, either."

The proposal continued to be debated until long into the night, but the hours were well spent because they not only agreed on the Gatekeeper's proposal, but also who would be sent and what exactly their mandate would be. It was a significant shift in Goblin foreign policy and one that would be remembered for centuries to come.

* * *

 **Thursday, March 25, 1995, Evening.**

When Jasmine and Hermione entered the Transfiguration classroom for Jasmine's detention with Professor McGonagall, they were greeted with a most unexpected sight: their entire study group was there waiting for them. The two Gryffindor witches stopped just inside the door in obvious confusion.

"Well, come on in," McGonagall said. "We can't get started until the door is sealed and silenced."

"Get started with what?" Jasmine asked when she and Hermione moved to the front of the room.

"With our study group, for one thing," Daphne said as she walked up to Jasmine and embraced her — an act that was surprising for the usually reserved Slytherin, yet this was the second hug Jasmine had received from her. "We're all so glad that you're alright and weren't punished too severely," she said softly before she stepped back.

"Your friends approached me about how important the study group has been and how empty it seemed to be on Tuesday without the two of you there," McGonagall said. "So I thought that it would be a good idea to continue it here instead. Detentions aren't supposed to negatively impact your academic efforts, after all."

"As a cover, though, we all have detention as well," Padma said with a sly smile.

"You said, 'first.' What else is there?" Hermione asked.

"We have an opportunity right now, but we need you if we're going to take advantage of it," Tracey said.

"What opportunity?" Jasmine asked suspiciously.

"Things are changing here at Hogwarts," Susan answered, "and you're at the center of it all."

"There was a huge upswell of support for you in all four houses — yes, even Slytherin — when people heard about the fight between you and Draco," Daphne said. "Didn't you wonder how and why that happened?"

"Yes, actually," Hermione answered. "We couldn't figure out what was going on because, last we heard, no one liked us — first the tournament, then Skeeter's article."

Tracey nodded. "That's all true, but something happened a couple of weeks ago which changed everything."

Both Gryffindor witches looked puzzled, then Hermione said excitedly, "The books! We did those two weeks ago!"

"But why would that change everyone's mind about me?" Jasmine asked. "All I did was duplicate them. Hermione duplicated just as many, and it was her mother who sent them here."

Hannah simply handed over an open book to them, showing them for the first time the badge which Daphne had created for the inside front cover. Both witches stared at the badge, mouths hanging open, then Hannah reached in with her wand and tapped the badge, causing it to switch from "Girl Who Lived tested and approved!" to "I give it an Outstanding! — Jasmine Potter."

Jasmine slowly lifted her head to look at the others. When she saw Daphne's unabashed expression, she knew exactly who to blame. "You..." she started, before Hermione put a hand on her arm and stopped her.

"Hang on," Hermione said. "Maybe this isn't so bad."

"Not so bad?!" Jasmine demanded.

"Told you so," Blaise muttered under his breath.

"Look," Hermione said, "it's not technically false — you did approve of the books. Also, I take it that everyone has been seeing these, and since they like the books, that approval has transferred over to Jasmine?"

"Exactly," Daphne responded, glad that one of them at least understood. "There are a large number of witches in this castle who now look up to you — not because you're the Girl Who Lived, but because you're a witch who is standing up for equality, safety, and education for other witches. These books are educating witches about their own bodies and teaching them how to look more critically at what society, parents, and wizards expect from them."

"The muggle term is 'consciousness raising,' I think," Hermione said. When everyone looked at her in confusion, she added, "They're becoming aware that how they are treated isn't right and needs to change."

"And they look to you as the reason for this," Susan said.

"The opportunity is that they are now ready to begin looking to you for the next step," Daphne said, "which is making that change."

"Whoa!" Jasmine protested, "I'm not..."

"We'd like to start a new group," Padma said over Jasmine's objection. "This study group would be the core, and you of course would be at the center, but it would include far more people — mostly witches, but there is some support from wizards, too."

"No, you don't understand," Jasmine insisted desperately, "I can't…."

"It's not like you'd have to do everything, obviously," Daphne said. "But the witches here will be much more likely to participate if they think that the group stands a chance of accomplishing something. That means we need you. You already have a history of accomplishing great things against impossible odds, and right now everyone is thinking about how you stood up against Malfoy."

Jasmine sat heavily in the nearest chair. She wanted to keep protesting, she really did; but when Daphne pointed out that other witches needed hope and that she could provide that hope, she felt her resistance to the idea start to crumble. She hated being the center of attention, and while she was working on dealing with that, she still preferred situations where she was given more of a choice. Even worse, she hated having that sort of responsibility dumped on her shoulders. However, if she walked away now, would that mean she was dooming the group to failure before it even got started?

"What do you think about all of this, Professor?" Hermione asked with a frown.

"I have many different reactions," McGonagall said with a sigh. "As one of your professors, I should be adamantly opposed to such challenges to how our society is structured and managed. I should probably go so far as report the lot of you to the Board of Governors and your parents." Before any of them could protest, she held up her hand reassuringly and said, "I'm not going to, but you should know that this is how most professors, staff, and other adults will likely react."

Once everyone calmed down somewhat, she continued, "Another reaction I have is a bit of worry. You want to change things — fundamental things about our culture. What will you put in place of the things you want to alter or eliminate? Are you sure that what you intend to do will actually be an improvement?" She paused for a moment, then looked pointedly at Hermione before saying, "However evil something appears to be right now, you shouldn't leap to tear it down without knowing for sure that you won't end up with something worse." Hermione nodded, remembering their discussion about the house elves.

"Finally," McGonagall said, "I feel a sense of anticipation and excitement. I haven't seen such fervent concern with our culture and politics among young people in a long, long time. Even if you were misguided in your goals, your passion would be commendable, but I think that many of your goals may be right. I'm curious about how you would improve our society, even as I'm cautious and fear that you could possibly make things worse. What we have now has, after all, worked for quite a while."

"It works far better for some than for others," Daphne pointed out. "Wealthy, pureblood wizards like Malfoy think it works wonderfully. And for them, it does. I think it should work just as well for the rest of us." McGonagall nodded, conceding that the blonde witch had a very good point.

"I... I'll think about it," Jasmine finally said, getting uncomfortable at how many people were looking at her expectantly for some sort of answer. "I'm not making any promises, but I'll think about it."

"I have a concern," Hermione jumped in to say. When she had the others' attention, she continued, "It seems to me that such a group could easily lose focus and fail because it tried to do too much. So before we think seriously about starting it, much less get Jasmine involved, we should find out what others actually expect, want, or need."

"How?" Padma asked.

Hermione took out a piece of parchment, wrote down several things, then said, "This is a list of some of the goals a group like this might have: educating witches, promoting equality for witches, that sort of thing." Hermione duplicated the parchment several times and handed out the copies. "Talk to the students in your houses that you think might be interested and ask them what they'd want out of such a group. Use the list as a starting point to find out what they think. If what people expect is all over the place, then you'll need to change that before a group can be created. A successful group is one that's focused on specific, achievable goals or principles."

It took a bit of convincing, but Hermione was eventually able to get the others to understand why a focused purpose would help make the group more successful in the long run. It was an important and necessary step, but it was also one that she hoped would slow things down enough to give Jasmine a chance to come to terms with what was being asked of her.

* * *

 **Thursday, March 25, 1995, Night.**

Peter Pettigrew looked around at the miserable space he'd been given to sleep in and sighed. It was better than the bit of floor he'd been forced to use at that old muggle manor, but not by much — especially considering the fact that he was now living in a grand, pureblood manor with his master. Peter had allowed himself to dream that once he'd successfully brought the Dark Lord back, he'd be rewarded — wealth, witches, power, witches, good food, and more witches.

All the things he'd been denied while at Hogwarts and which should have been his now, but weren't.

And why? He blamed that bint, Potter. When she had escaped, the Dark Lord flew into such a rage that no one was safe from his wrath, especially poor little Wormtail. Had she just accepted her fate like she was supposed to, then everyone would have been rewarded — and him most of all, surely. So it was her fault that things weren't going his way, just as it had been James and Lily's fault that he was constantly belittled and ignored at Hogwarts.

 _Like mother, like daughter_ , he concluded bitterly.

 _If only there was some way I could capture her myself_ , he thought, _then I'd have my rightful place here and get my just rewards._

* * *

 **Friday, March 26, 1995, Night.**

It had been many hours since they'd practiced cheering charms in class that morning, but Jasmine and Hermione were still prone to fits of giggles every so often. It was clear that they'd done a poor job of toning down the power they'd used, but since they couldn't explain that to anyone, they had to let both students and teachers think that the two witches were just very giggly that day, something that was completely out of character for them. They were just lucky that they hadn't had Potions.

Holding on tight to her emotions lest a new Giggle Loop begin, Hermione looked at the witch sitting across from her on her bed and asked, "It's been a day now. Have you given much thought to the proposal that the study group made?"

"You mean, for that new group they wanted to create?" Jasmine asked. "I thought there was no point in worrying about that until they found out whether it's worth bothering with or not."

Hermione sighed in exasperation and said, "Jasmine, I suspect that most of those asked will have similar goals and expectations for such a group. They're all working from the same set of books which they just read, so I doubt they'll be all over the place in what they want."

"Then... why did you have the others investigate?" Jasmine asked, completely bewildered.

"Aside from just being sure in case I'm wrong?" Hermione asked, getting annoyed. "I was buying you time to think because I know they're asking a lot. I thought you'd spend the time thinking seriously about this, but I guess I was mistaken."

Jasmine held up her hands in surrender. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I didn't know. I figured… well, I guess I hoped that I wouldn't have to make a decision because so many different witches couldn't possibly all agree, right?"

Hermione's expression softened considerably at that. "OK, you've got a point. Under other circumstances, you probably would stand a good chance of being spared. Or maybe not, and maybe our study friends would still move forward and just start with a smaller organization."

Jasmine's face fell even more at that idea. "So, I'm pretty much guaranteed to be completely buggered here?"

"Pretty much," her girlfriend responded.

"Ugh," Jasmine complained, now having managed to overwhelm the cheering charm entirely. "I can't believe that they'd ask me to do that."

"Why not?" Hermione asked, genuinely confused.

"Why not?" Jasmine repeated a little heatedly. "It only represents almost everything that I hate about how I'm treated in the magical world. It turns me into a symbol, just without the nifty scar to go along with it. It garners me lots of extra attention, both negative and positive, and you know how I hate attention. It's people expecting me to fight the sins of a society that I've never felt a part of — sins that I didn't help create, but for some reason am expected to solve. All they need to do is toss in a couple of dead parents and the parallel would be perfect!"

"Jasmine," Hermione jumped in to say, "It's not really as bad as…."

"Oh, and on top of it all," Jasmine continued as if Hermione hadn't said a thing, "that first problem that I supposedly already dealt with? Voldemort? Yeah, he just happens to have come back. And he's after me in particular, so I guess I'm supposed to fit reforming magical society into my tea breaks while I'm running for my life from a dark lord."

Hermione gaped at Jasmine's rant, not having expected all of this, but realizing now that she probably should have.

"Out of everyone, Hermione, I expected **you** at least to understand and be on my side."

"But... but... I am…" Hermione tried to say, but Jasmine had stopped listening to her.

"You know what, I'm going to bed," Jasmine abruptly declared and left.

"But... I am on your side," Hermione said in a small voice to the now-empty space beside her.


	54. It's My Life

**Recommendation** : This chapter's recommended fic is "C'est La Vie" by cywscross. Unfinished and, sadly, perhaps abandoned. After losing everything in the fight against Voldemort, Harry accepts an offer to be transported to an alternate universe where he can start over as a student again. In this universe, Neville is the Boy Who Lived, Harry's parents are alive, and his alternate self is a massive git. Will his hero complex kick in? Why, of course it will….

* * *

 **Chapter 54 - It's My Life**

 **Saturday, March 27, 1995, Morning.**

Relations between Jasmine and Hermione were strained during breakfast. Everyone saw it, but no one knew quite what to do. It wasn't as bad as what had happened between them prior to the Yule Ball, but Jasmine was very firm in telling people that she didn't want to talk about it, while Hermione just looked nervous. Eventually their friends decided to let them work it out themselves, whatever "it" was.

Finally, Jasmine whispered to Hermione to meet her on the seventh floor when she was done, then left early. The brunette witch didn't waste any time rushing through the rest of her meal, then she practically ran up to the seventh floor, arriving at the Room of Requirement very shortly after Jasmine had.

Seeing that her green-eyed girlfriend was still visibly agitated, she approached nervously and said, "Jasmine, I'm really sorry for giving you the impression that I wasn't on your..."

Jasmine held up a hand to stop her. "I know, I was really angry and was a bit too short with you."

"Then... why wouldn't you talk to me last night?" Hermione asked, both hurt and upset.

Jasmine sighed. "Because while I was a bit too short with you, I also wasn't entirely wrong. I know you're on my side, but you weren't really acting like it — or at least it didn't seem like it to me — and I needed to get some distance from your enthusiasm for this little project in order to think about it. And to think about myself."

Jasmine started pacing back and forth as she continued. "I'm still not sure I want to get involved in this, especially in the way they want me to. At the same time, I can see the group's value and would feel bad if my absence made it less likely to succeed." Jasmine stopped to look at Hermione. "And do you have any idea how that makes me feel? To know that by simply not wanting to get involved, not wanting to feel used, or wanting to instead spend time on me or us, I may be dooming the efforts of something so valuable and important? Why is it always **me** sacrificing for the magical world — **my** parents, **my** childhood, **my** safety? What's next? Am I supposed to walk out and take a killing curse to the face to save a magical society that's never respected or liked me?"

Jasmine was really starting to rant by this point, so Hermione surged forward and wrapped her in a tight hug. "Oh, Jasmine, I'm so sorry. I never thought about what sort of pressure that would put you under! You shouldn't have to bear the weight of other's hopes and dreams like that."

"And I don't want to, Hermione," she said more gently into her girlfriend's hair. "It's like I'm never given time to figure out who I am and what I want — something that's even more important now that I have you."

"But how do you intend to go about that?" Hermione asked as she leaned back a little to look the other witch in the eye.

"What do you mean?" Jasmine said.

"Well, if you didn't have any of these other pressures, what would you do? Sit in a dark room and meditate?"

"Uh..." Jasmine said, suddenly unable to think of anything.

"I don't know of anyone who would succeed that way, and you least of all," Hermione said. "You need to be doing things. Who's to say that a group like this isn't an excellent thing to do to help you learn more about yourself?"

Jasmine frowned and said, "You're not trying to trick me into…."

"No!" Hermione said quickly. "Not at all! I'm just trying to point out that what you want isn't mutually exclusive with getting involved with something like this. It all depends on **how** you get involved."

"How..." Jasmine said slowly, "as in, not letting myself be controlled and used by others, for example?"

"Exactly," Hermione said. "And while I think we can trust our friends to not do such things deliberately, they might end up doing something along those lines inadvertently. But it's up to you to set limits and to insist that your participation be on your own terms. Otherwise, you'll end up being a tool that others use to fulfill their needs."

"OK," Jasmine said with a growing smile. "Let's talk about what I might get out of such an organization — and how I would benefit from playing an important role."

* * *

Elsewhere in the castle, Albus Dumbledore and Minerva McGonagall were having a similarly important discussion about a closely related topic, albeit without all the kissing and cuddling.

"What is it you wanted to see me about, Albus?" the stern Transfiguration professor asked. He didn't miss her cool demeanor, something that had been slipping into her conversations with him more and more in recent weeks. He had a good idea of why, but he had no idea yet of what to do about it.

"I'm concerned about Miss Potter," he explained, not bothering to offer her a sherbet lemon.

"Anything in particular?" she asked, still cooly.

"Quite a few things," he admitted, "but there's one issue in particular that I wanted to address before too much time passes. Were you aware of her having grown so unhappy that she was thinking about leaving Britain?"

"No," McGonagall responded, "she's never said anything to me about leaving the country. I first heard about that in your office the other day when you did."

Dumbledore noticed a frown that appeared and disappeared almost as quickly from her face, suggesting that she was indeed telling the truth and wasn't happy about having been kept in the dark. "So you have no idea how serious she might be in her intentions?" When she shook her head, he went on, "I cannot tell you how imperative it is that she remain in Britain. We must find out how serious she is and take steps to convince her to stay."

McGonagall raised one eyebrow in curiosity and said, "Really? I will admit that I'd be saddened to see her leave, but I'm not sure how her staying could be so critical."

"The wizards and witches of Britain would not accept the Girl Who Lived leaving our shores," Dumbledore responded.

"I'm sure they'll get over it," McGonagall said dryly. "As it is, they have little or no contact with her and seem entirely unconcerned with her wellbeing. After a few years, I expect many will completely forget about her."

Dumbledore frowned slightly, knowing that what she said was true and that he might have been able to prevent that. Unfortunately, keeping her from growing up with a swelled head due to her celebrity status also came with some negative consequences that he was only now starting to understand. "You'll have to trust me on this, Minerva," he said firmly. "She is vital to the future of wizarding Britain, and we cannot afford to lose her. Will you make inquiries with her to find out just how serious she may be? I'd ask her myself, but given the tenor of our most recent interactions, I'm not sure she'd open up to me very readily."

McGonagall considered it, then said, "I'll ask, Albus, but only because I'm curious myself. I won't push her, and if she asks that I keep her answer in confidence, I'll do so."

Dumbledore nodded sadly, knowing that he wouldn't get any more out of her. _Perhaps she's been doing more with Miss Potter and Miss Granger than just working on the tournament?_ he wondered. _Or perhaps working so much on the tournament has simply made them closer?_

"Do you know anything new about You-Know-Who?" McGonagall asked.

"I suppose I can tell you now, since you ask," Dumbledore replied, "though I intend to share this with others as well once we find a place for the Order to meet."

"Still no luck on that?" she asked.

Dumbledore shook his head. "I'm going to have to write to Sirius Black to see if he can help. I should probably get that out today because it will take a while for any message to reach him, and then more time for a response to return.

"Severus was finally called to his side on Wednesday evening," the headmaster continued, "a week after that horrible ritual, and didn't come back until Thursday morning, barely in time to make his first class. Voldemort is… quite displeased about Miss Potter getting away. His wrath against his servants was evidently quite terrible, and Severus spent much of this time administering potions in an effort to help them."

"How sad," McGonagall drawled. Dumbledore nodded as if he thought her sympathy were genuine.

"Fortunately, Severus was able to convince Voldemort that he is still loyal," Dumbledore went on, "and so he will still be able to spy for us, though he will apparently have to be especially cautious for a while, just in case he arouses suspicion too soon."

"Why am I not surprised?" McGonagall muttered. A bit louder, she asked, "What about Lucius Malfoy?"

"He is... not in very good shape," Dumbledore said slowly. "Voldemort was especially angry with Lucius for some reason, more so than he was with his other servants. Miss Potter's fire spell burned him quite badly, and while the burn scars could probably be healed because they are not cursed with dark magic, Voldemort refuses to let him do so. He apparently wants Lucius to keep them as a reminder of his failures."

"How bad are the burns?" McGonagall asked.

"Quite serious, apparently," Dumbledore answered. "Severus refused to describe them in detail, but I think it's safe to say that Lucius' famous good looks are no more." He paused for a moment before adding, "You mustn't tell young Mr. Malfoy, I'm afraid. Severus was given strict instructions to say nothing, not even whether Lucius is alive. Apparently, he's not happy with Draco, either, for some reason."

McGonagall nodded, noting that she wasn't told to keep the information from Miss Potter and wondering if that was deliberate or an oversight.

* * *

 **Sunday, March 28, 1995, Morning.**

Sirius sat considering at the letter from Albus Dumbledore and wondered just how long he could plausibly delay replying. Dumbledore thought he was hiding in another part of the world, so that gave him a bit of time — and he needed all the time he could get. Dumbledore's request was not only reasonable because a base of operations against Voldemort was necessary, but it was useful as well because it would allow him to keep a closer eye on what Dumbledore and his followers were doing.

But he still needed time. Even though he had already suspected that this request might come after he had heard about what happened to Jasmine, he needed more time to start implementing his mother's plans. He knew he wouldn't be able to get nearly as much done once Dumbledore and others were walking in and out of the house freely. He'd have to ward a couple of rooms against anyone without Black blood, but that wouldn't be enough for him to continue on has he had been.

Unfortunately, Dumbledore had worded the request as being critical to helping protect Jasmine against Voldemort, so there was no way that he could create delays through negotiating for something in return, like maybe a trial. No, anything short of instantly leaping to be of service would be perceived as suspicious, so once he sent in his reply, he'd be committed. _No more than a month after that… maybe two, tops_ , he concluded.

Sirius returned to the list of plans his mother had given him to work on — plans that had been moved up once she had learned of Voldemort's return and which now had to be advanced even more quickly. As he read through them again, he once again wondered what her real game might be. He approved of everything and wished that he'd thought of it himself, but he was still suspicious. Expelling Bellatrix and Narcissa? Reinstating Andromeda and her family? All great ideas, even if odd coming from a blood purist like Walburga Black. Even naming Jasmine as his heir if he never had children sounded like a good idea.

The problem was, he didn't see anything that would help Jasmine as much as his mother suggested. That meant they probably served other goals, too — and he knew very well that it was normal for his mother's plans to have plans within plans. There was never just a single goal being pursued, but rather multiple goals — and ways for them to all be achieved no matter what the outcome of individual events. _So what are you_ _ **really**_ _plotting, mother?_ he wondered.

Perhaps it was the time in Azkaban, but he couldn't think of anything. Nothing good, nothing bad... nothing. _Well, at least none of this looks like it would hurt me or Jasmine_ , he decided. _Whatever her other goals may be, I'll just have to deal with them as they come._

With that, he picked up a quill and began writing some very formal letters to Gringotts in order to get some of the legal parchment work started. Afterwards, he'd discuss with his mother how to set up the house so that it would continue to look like an abandoned dark house, recently re-inhabited, while making it possible to monitor everything and everyone.

* * *

 **Sunday, March 28, 1995, Afternoon.**

"The headmaster wanted me to ask some questions of you," Minerva said without preamble as she sat down for tea with Jasmine and Hermione. "He's very interested in how serious you are about leaving Britain. I told him I'd ask, but that I'd only share with him if you didn't talk to me in the expectation that I'd keep your confidence." After pausing for a moment, she added in a softer voice, "And on a personal note, I must admit that I'm curious about the answer to that as well. I was quite surprised to hear you declare that in the headmaster's office the other day. Are things really that bad for you?"

Jasmine clearly felt bad about having sprung that information on her professor in such an abrupt manner, but Hermione jumped in to respond first. "Professor, what answer would be best for Jasmine?" At McGonagall's questioning look, she explained, "Which answer would gain her the most with him: that she's very serious, or just idly thinking about it? Which answer would cause him to make the most trouble for her?"

"Ah," Minerva said, leaning back in her chair to give that some thought. "It's hard to say for sure, but I can tell you that he seems almost desperate to keep you in Britain. So if he can't achieve that through reasonable, legal means, he might try something that you won't like."

Hermione nodded and said, "So either he should think that she's not very serious, or he should think she is if we can also get him to give her something in return for staying — something that he's willing to give up and which helps her."

"That's possible," McGonagall said carefully, "but it comes close to blackmailing the headmaster, which would be rather dangerous. He's been playing politics and doing deals for much, much longer than you've been alive, young lady."

"Oh, I know," Hermione said, "and I wouldn't suggest it unless it were for the sake of something really important... and I'm not sure if there is anything. What do you think, Jasmine?"

Jasmine, who had been surprised at Hermione's very sneaky idea, thought about it for a moment before saying, "I don't know if there is much he could do for me — at least, if we exclude all of the stuff that we're not supposed to know about or be questioning. Maybe getting me away from the Dursleys? Or getting Sirius a trial?"

Minerva shook her head and said, "I wouldn't expect any concessions there. He has always been adamant about you living with the Dursleys, and I don't see him being able to push for a trial for your godfather any time soon. There would be too much opposition from other quarters."

Jasmine sighed and said, "OK, then let's save that. You can tell him that I'm not very serious... not yet, at least. I have been thinking about it because of all of the things that have been done to me. If things continue to be done to me, I'll be thinking about it all the harder. At some point, I'll probably be pushed over the edge. Maybe that will give him some incentive to actually protect and help me."

Minerva nodded at that, then said softly, "And is that the truth, lass? Has it been that bad?"

Jasmine slumped a bit in her seat and Hermione reached over to put her hand on her arm. "Sometimes, yes. It's just that whenever I look around at what I've gone through, I keep seeing lots of reasons to leave. Students shouldn't have to deal with basilisks, dementors, dark lords, and being hated by an entire school. Then, on the other hand... well, the other hand tends to keep coming up empty."

She tiredly raked her fingers through her hair before continuing, "No offense, professor, but I've never really felt like a part of this community, so I don't feel any strong reasons to stay. Frankly, staying is easier than leaving right now, and that's about it. Dumbledore seems to have been deliberately preventing me from getting attached to anything British, magical or muggle, and the end result is that now I feel like I can take it or leave it. I don't care about Britain much more than I do any other random country. If I think I'll have it better somewhere else, and if Hermione is willing to go with me, then I'll seriously look into leaving."

"Except for that last bit," Hermione said, "you can probably tell him that." Jasmine nodded in agreement. "Just between us, though," Hermione continued, "Jasmine has only mentioned it to me once, and we'd have to talk long and hard before making such a decision. I'll admit that I'm probably no more attached to magical Britain than she is, but I **am** attached to muggle Britain."

Minerva sighed as she nodded. "I understand," she said after a few moments. "It would be tragic if you were chased from our shores because the adults who were supposed to protect you all failed, but I can certainly understand your complaint. You need to do what's in your own best interests, not what others are demanding that you do."

"Thank you," Jasmine said, happy to see that her professor was willing to support her even in this.

"By the way," Minerva said, "the Headmaster has written to your godfather to ask if there were any properties that could be used for an organization that will oppose You-Know-Who. I assume you've already written to him?" When Jasmine nodded, she continued, "Then assuming he doesn't come rushing back, he'll get the Headmaster's letter shortly after yours and will probably return anyway."

Jasmine and Hermione gave each other a quick look, then Jasmine replied, "He, uh, may already be in Britain…." At her professor's inquiring look, she went on, "Well, if he were, I wouldn't necessarily want to tell you in case you were bound by any oaths to report such information."

"Hypothetically," Hermione quickly added.

"Yeah," Jasmine agreed, "hypothetically speaking."

Minerva smiled and said, "That's fine, and there are no oaths to worry about. Can I assume that your godfather will take his time in replying, giving the impression that he is still quite some distance away?"

"I wouldn't know," Jasmine said, "but that seems likely." Minerva nodded and thought about how this would affect the dynamics of the Order.

"Have you or the Headmaster heard anything new about the DMLE investigation? Or about what Voldemort has been doing?" Hermione asked.

After taking another sip of tea, Minerva replied, "The Headmaster has some sources of information. I can tell you, but you must keep it to yourselves." When they both agreed, she said, "Mr. Malfoy survived your attack, Miss Potter, but not unscathed. Apparently You-Know-Who won't let him heal his burn scars, forcing him to carry them as a reminder of his failures. You-Know-Who is also apparently quite upset with all of his followers, in fact. I don't think he's doing anything in particular yet, but it's only a matter of time. And I've heard nothing about the official investigation."

Hermione was aghast, but Jasmine had to work hard to suppress a smile. She had badly wanted to hurt Malfoy, and thought it ironically appropriate that Voldemort was helping her do it.

* * *

 **Wednesday, March 31, 1995, Night.**

Before she could join her daughters in bed, Apolline was pulled aside by Adrienne, who said, "I've finally received a response from the Theledrion about my report on our experiences during Eostre."

"Oh?" Apolline responded. "That was faster than I expected. What did they have to say?"

Instead of answering, Adrienne looked uncomfortable for a moment, then handed the other woman a piece of parchment. "Here," she said, "it's better if you just read it yourself."

Apolline took the parchment somewhat apprehensively, wondering why the normally cool and collected Adrienne was acting this way. She read the parchment. Then she read it again. Finally, after a third read through, she let her hands drop and turned to Adrienne with an incredulous expression. "Are they serious?" she demanded.

Adrienne sighed and said, "Yes, they are. And when you think about it, this makes a disturbing amount of sense."

"Sense?" Apolline exclaimed. "How does this make sense? Sweet Morgana, this is madness!"

"Remember one of the most important things that we teach about prophecies," the older veela explained. "You can try to push them in one direction or another, but that always ends up making things worse for everyone. The best you can do is just 'go with the flow' — accept however a prophecy moves you and try to make the best of it."

"So... the Theledrion believes that what happened to us is part of the Great Prophecy," Apolline said slowly.

"Just about anything that happens around those two witches is plausibly a part of the Great Prophecy," Adrienne pointed out. "But the events during Eostre almost certainly were. They revealed their power. They revealed their ability to promote love and fertility. They were blessed by the goddesses, which is especially significant given the roles they played. They blessed us by sharing their power with us, enhancing our own experiences."

Apolline felt a wave of heat as she remembered those experiences; she was still amazed by them. Slowly she nodded, accepting the other witch's explanation. "That explains why the Theledrion isn't too bothered by what happened to us, I guess."

"Even our potentially divided loyalties may turn out to be for the best," Adrienne said. "Including the best for the veela over the long term. They won't punish or exile us, or anything of the kind. Since our interrogations of each other with veritaserum demonstrated that we wouldn't side with those two witches _against_ the veela nation, the Theledrion has decided to accept it."

"But what about their proposal for Beltane?" Apolline demanded. "What happened to us was completely unforeseen! Unexpected! It was an accident! This," she slapped the parchment in her hand, "looks an awful lot like tampering!"

"It's true that their plans are... more difficult to justify," Adrienne said slowly. "But I think that their reasoning is that our having experienced such strong, positive magic during Eostre points to a massively positive outcome for a much larger Beltane celebration. You must understand that since what we experienced was unheard of, others are eager to have the chance to experience something similar, regardless of the possible consequences to their feelings of loyalty."

Apolline took a deep breath before saying, "OK, I can understand that, but what about our rules against interference?"

Adrienne shrugged. "Technically, none of this rises to the level of manipulation. No one is trying to push the prophecy to one outcome or another. No one is pushing either of the girls to do anything in particular — and certainly nothing that they haven't already done. It's just an expressed intention to join us in something that will already be happening. The event will be the same, but bigger. If it would cause a problem for the prophecy, then presumably they will be thwarted in their plans. If they do come and participate, then one can assume it fits with the path that the prophecy has them on, just as would be the case if you and I were the only other participants."

Apolline closed her eyes for a moment, apparently counting backwards while trying to calm down. "Fine, I can see where a simple difference in the number of participants won't necessarily amount to interfering with prophecy." Her control slipped a little. "But this! They want us to make a deal with the centaurs that reserves the ritual circle for three days. Three days! And they want the circle to be three times as big! It looks like most of the council and quite a few prominent members of our society will be here!"

Adrienne nodded. "There will be more veela here than Britain has ever seen before. I am confident that they will all manage to get here and participate, too. Your daughters are special in the context of the prophecy, so their participation is almost necessary. The rest of us are not so special, however, so I think that our choosing to offer such a public show of support for the Chosen Couple will elicit a spectacular response from the goddesses."

"And this is a good thing?" Apolline demanded.

"I don't know," Adrienne admitted with a shrug, then grinned. "But it's going to be a hell of a celebration."

* * *

 **Tuesday, April 6, 1995, Evening.**

At the first study group meeting after Jasmine's two weeks of detention ended, there were a lot of happy and hopeful faces. The previous week it had been revealed that there was a lot of consistency in what witches wanted out of the proposed group: education about sex, female bodies, and feminine magic, mutual support for witches with problems, and advocacy for greater equality.

Now everyone was waiting to hear Jasmine's decision about what she would do. Daphne hadn't been exaggerating in describing Jasmine's importance: between the books and striking down Malfoy, she had quickly become something of a folk hero among Hogwarts witches. Her involvement would inspire others to believe that their group would be successful and reassure them that participation would be safe.

Unfortunately, convincing the Girl Who Lived to play a prominent role was proving more difficult than expected.

"I still haven't made my final decision on participating," Jasmine said to them all once she had their attention. "That's going to depend on all of you." At their confused looks, she continued, "I think you all know at least the basics of what I've gone through these past years at Hogwarts. Every year it somehow falls on me and my friends to risk our lives to save the school. It shouldn't be our responsibility, though. We're just students — we're the ones who should be protected, not the ones protecting everyone else."

The others nodded slowly at this, though not everyone had already recognized this problem. "And that's on top of being the Girl Who Lived, a symbol that people keep looking up to and praising for saving their society — a society I was prevented from even knowing about until I was eleven!" Now the others were getting a bit nervous, not expecting this much anger.

Jasmine took a couple of deep breaths to calm herself down. "There's no denying that the goals of the group would be good. They are something I support. But to become a symbol? To become a critical member that everyone looks up to? I hope you can all see how that looks to me like more of what I've been dealing with ever since I learned about magic... and how it's not something I'm happy about, especially having it suddenly dumped on me."

Hermione spoke up now, saying, "Remember that Jasmine lost her parents due to the ills of magical Britain, so she's been sacrificing everything near and dear to her since she was barely able to walk." Several students looked down at the table, feeling a bit embarrassed at having to be reminded of that. "So you can understand if she's more than a little reluctant to allow herself to be moved around like a chess piece in someone else's game."

"What is it you want, exactly?" Daphne asked, recognizing now that this was a negotiation rather than mere venting.

"As valuable as this group may be, I frankly have more immediate problems to deal with," Jasmine said. "Specifically, Voldemort." More than one person flinched at hearing the name.

"So you want to wait until after he's dealt with?" Daphne asked.

Jasmine shook her head. "On the contrary, I want the group to be part of the effort to deal with him."

"But... how?" Hannah asked. "They're completely unrelated. And what could we possibly do, anyway?"

"They're not directly related," Hermione said, "but they are connected. Both can be traced back to the same underlying problems in magical society. Both Voldemort and the problems witches face draw from common assumptions and traditions regarding inequality, power, and wealth."

"And if Voldemort isn't stopped," Jasmine pointed out, "then nothing we do with our little student group will amount to much in the long run." That, more than anything, sobered everyone up. It had been easy for them to ignore the return of Voldemort because it was so recent and hadn't impacted their lives. Now that it was being pushed in front of them, however, they couldn't ignore the fact that it would affect so many of their hopes and dreams for the future.

"What can we do, then?" Susan asked.

"Lots of things," Jasmine said, "but first things first: are we agreed on my involvement, at least in principle? The group will officially be about the issues we discussed last week, but unofficially we need to fight Voldemort. I'm reminded of a passage from the introduction of the book that started all of this: 'We emphasize wherever possible _what witches can do_ — for ourselves, for each other — in staying healthy, healing ourselves, and working for change.' Granted, it said 'women' not 'witches,' but I think it's fair to alter it for our purposes. And the most important changes we can make are to first get rid of Voldemort, then fix the social, cultural, and political conditions that helped create him."

"I think it's a great idea," Daphne responded. When she saw some surprised looks, she explained, "Look, we know that You-Know-Who will make things worse, especially for us witches. Those who aren't killed for being impure or blood traitors will either have to become Death Eaters or brood mares for Death Eaters. I don't know about the rest of you, but I'm not thrilled by either option." She received a lot of agreement on that. "So he has to be stopped. You all know that victors write the history and to the victors go the spoils, so whoever is involved with stopping him will have a lot of power and political capital, both individually and as a group."

"It'll be really dangerous though," Hannah said, sounding very scared.

"You're right," Hermione admitted, "it will be. But it will be dangerous for everyone, whether they get involved or try to hide." Hermione took a deep breath before continuing, "Jasmine and I started learning some more, uh, dangerous spells recently, mostly for the tournament, but also partly because we knew she'd likely be facing other life threatening situations in the future." She had everyone's attention now. "I was very reluctant to go along with this at first because I didn't like the idea of learning how to deliberately hurt other people. It just… it didn't sit right with me."

Looking around, she saw many expressions of sympathy. "I'm still not happy with it. In the end, though, I realized that even just as a muggleborn, never mind as Jasmine's friend, I'd end up having to fight. That people who wish to eliminate the very existence of people like me would probably come for me someday. Unless I intended to run and hide, my only choices were to become as prepared as possible or just wait and hope for the best."

"Waiting and hoping for the best is rarely a good strategy," Padma chimed in to say, "not if you are able to prepare in advance."

"Right," Hermione agreed. "However much I don't like the idea of hurting people, I like the idea of them hurting me and my loved ones even less." Turning back to Hannah, she said, "With Voldemort back, you're in danger no matter what. Nothing, not even hiding, will protect you entirely. So you can prepare yourself and be as ready as possible to fight, or you can roll over and die."

Hannah wilted a little, and Susan put her arm around her best friend to offer a bit of emotional support. "My auntie has taught us both some basics about defending ourselves. Well, mostly me, but Hannah has joined in some as well. It looks like we'll have to go back and work a bit harder on that."

The fourth year students discussed several different issues that now faced them if they were going to shift the group's purpose, even if unofficially. Jasmine was nominated to organize private lessons in defense, though she insisted that Hermione help, since the bushy-haired witch was the one who had done the nominating. Susan was charged with getting information about emergency portkeys via her aunt, as well as anything else that the DMLE might have to offer.

Daphne volunteered to research spells for eavesdropping — she was thinking ahead about the children of families who might sign on with Voldemort and who therefore might be able to provide intelligence. Padma offered to research home defenses, both magical and muggle. Others volunteered to look into healing and other types of magic that might be useful. It was becoming far more complex and difficult than anyone had anticipated, but they had a very strong motivation and were more than a little heartened by the fact that there were so many others actively helping.

"If we're going to do this, we'll need a name for the group," Susan said before they all broke up to leave. "Something good that will inspire confidence and hope."

"How about Health Advocacy Group for Girls?" Hermione suggested.

"I guess that works," Susan said, "but..."

"But it spells out HAGG!" Tracey objected. Susan got a disgusted expression on her face.

"No, it's just H.A.G.G. But if you don't like it, what about Society for Health Advocacy for Girls?" Hermione suggested again.

"SHAG?" Daphne exclaimed. "That's worse!"

"And it's focused on health," Hannah pointed out, "even though the aims of the group will involve more than just health."

"Hardly the worst thing about that name," Daphne muttered while scowling at Hermione.

"Then let's use Girls' Advancement Group," Hermione responded, not seeming to notice any of the appalled looks she was getting. "That's pretty general."

"It also spells out GAG!" Padma complained. "I won't join a group that's named SHAG or GAG!"

"We also shouldn't limit it to just girls," Tracey said. "Although we may not attract many adults right now, we'll hopefully still be supporting this when we're adults... which is only a couple of years away, actually."

"OK," Hermione said, receiving fearful looks now, "how about Society for the Advancement of Ladies' Equality?"

"SALE?" Daphne asked. "Are you joking?"

"It's not SALE," Hermione objected, "it's S.A.L.E, and why not?"

"There are too many negative jokes to be had with that!" Daphne insisted. "Wizards will think we're all superficial and won't take us seriously!" She turned and shot Blaise a nasty look when he started snickering.

"Maybe we should make it clear that this is about and for witches?" Padma said, trying to move the argument into a more productive direction.

"Fine," Hermione responded, "how about Witches' Interests Group? That's still general."

"WIG... isn't horrible," Padma conceded, "but it's not great, either."

"I think it's horrible," Susan put in. "It reminds me of Lockhart. And it certainly doesn't inspire confidence."

"Witches Advocating Revolution?" Hermione said.

"I said confidence, not terror!" Susan objected. "Calling ourselves WAR will make opposition even worse!"

"Witches' Health Organization?" Hermione offered.

"WHO might work — if there weren't so many inappropriate jokes involving 'You Know WHO' that detractors would make," Daphne said bitterly.

"And if it weren't focused just on health," Hannah pointed out again.

Hermione went silent with an indecipherable expression on her face — at least, it was indecipherable to everyone but Jasmine, who had just been staring at her for the entire conversation. She had known that Hermione's ability to name things was bad, but this had revealed her to be far, far worse than could possibly have been expected.

Now, though, she could tell that Hermione was waiting for something. And Jasmine wasn't sure she wanted to know what it was, but she couldn't help herself. "What is it, Hermione?" she asked. "Out with it — what are you thinking?"

"Well," Hermione said slowly, "given everyone's preferences and limits, I'm certain that I have the perfect name."

"Oh?" Jasmine asked with more than a little trepidation.

"Yes," Hermione said rather primly. "Society for the Promotion of Equality for Witches."

Both Jasmine and Neville groaned and let their heads hit the table with a loud thump as Hermione held up an all-too-familiar, round object and said, "I even have the buttons already made."

"SPEW?" Susan asked incredulously.

"No," Hermione responded, "It's S.P.E.W.!"

"It's also a disturbingly, even distressingly, appropriate name," Daphne ground out reluctantly. "The **full** name, I mean." Blaise was now only barely managing to hold in his laughter.

"You're right, it is," Tracey said, looking a bit green.

"I do have a couple of other ideas," Hermione offered, "just in case you'd like some more options..."

"Merlin, no!" Padma exclaimed. "We've had enough! We give in!"

"Let's all... sleep on it, or something," Susan suggested. "Maybe vote on a final name next time? I mean, if anyone can come up with anything, uh, decent?"

"I'll go along with that," Hannah responded. "That gives us plenty of time to finalize things before the 15th, which is the full moon and is thus a good date for launching new magical ventures."

* * *

 **Tuesday, April 6, 1995, Night.**

After finishing their mind magic practice, and just before Hermione left Jasmine's bed to go to sleep, Jasmine asked, "Hermione, have I ever told you that you're awful at naming things?"

"Why do you say that?" Hermione responded with an innocent expression.

"Those names you suggested earlier this evening!" Jasmine exclaimed "They were horrible! How could you possibly think that a group designed to support witches should be named SHAG or GAG?"

Hermione was getting out of Jasmine's bed by this point, but before she exited completely she said, "It's not SHAG, it's S.H.A.G. And besides, whatever gave you the idea that I really thought anyone would go for those names?" And with a quick smirk she was gone, leaving Jasmine to gape open-mouthed at the spot where her girlfriend had slipped out between the curtains.

"She... I... she..." Jasmine spluttered incoherently. "She did that on purpose! She was playing us the whole time! She did that so people would think SPEW was **good** in comparison! That... that... ooohh!"


	55. In The Air Tonight

**Recommendation:** This chapter's recommended fic is "Not the Golden Route" by Romantic Silence. Ron learns at the worst possible moment that Harry and Hermione didn't spend all the time alone in the tent just pining away for him. Very funny one-shot.

* * *

 **Chapter 55 - In the Air Tonight**

 **Sunday, April 11, 1995, Evening.**

Adrienne was writing yet another report to the Theledrion about the effects of the Eostre celebration when she heard a knock on her door. After unsealing it, she found that it was Phoebe and Apolline, just returned from the Forbidden Forest.

"Is that the report?" Apolline asked as the two newcomers sat down.

"Yes," Adrienne said. "Even after double-checking the scans three times, I still can't believe it. I don't think that there has ever been a ritual celebration that has made participants healthier, stronger, and taller as it's done to all of us. Granted, the changes have been very small, but that there are any changes at all is amazing!"

Phoebe snorted. "It's annoying, is what it is. My armor doesn't fit anymore!"

Apolline smiled teasingly and said, "Well, that's what you get for insisting on wearing something that fits so tightly. No margin for error! But are you sure it wasn't that extra helping of chocolate pudding I saw you eat last night?"

"What did you find?" Adrienne interjected, trying to forestall another argument between the two.

"Well," Apolline replied, "after visiting the Forbidden Forest, I no longer find it hard to believe that we've all improved physically." When Adrienne raised an inquiring eyebrow, Apolline continued, "The growth of both old and new plants is astounding. Everything is bright green in and around our original circle. The flowers are thicker than I've ever seen them anywhere else. According to the centaurs, there is a marked improvement in growth for about two hundred meters all around our circle."

Adrienne whistled in surprise. "That's pretty remarkable. And you're sure that all of this stems from our Eostre ritual?"

"It looked that way to me," Apolline answered, "but the centaurs confirmed it. Everything started immediately after our ritual and grew very, very fast."

"I'm glad you got a chance to talk to the centaurs," Adrienne said. "Were they accepting of the changes? Do you think they'll allow another ritual, even if it's bigger?"

Phoebe snorted and said, "Allow it? The centaur we talked to brought it up on his own and asked very nicely if we'd consider doing it in their forest again!"

"Really?" Adrienne asked. "And what did you say?"

"I did what I always do when a man wants something I have," Apolline said with a grin, "I flipped my hair back and played hard to get."

"It was a centaur, not a man!" Phoebe objected.

"He was built enough like a man," Apolline said.

"Right," Phoebe responded skeptically, "I think that he'd be a bit much even for you."

"Enough!" exclaimed Adrienne, seeing the outraged expression on Apolline's face and regretting having sent those two out together. "What happened next?"

"Oh," Apolline said, "In the end, I got him to agree to let us magically expand the circle and hold a much larger celebration at Beltane in exchange for them providing protection for three days. He seemed to think that he got the better end of the bargain."

"Based on what you've told me," Adrienne said, "he may well have. My understanding is that this forest is very dark and has been infested with a lot of dark creatures for a long time. If our rituals continue to improve things, we'll be making life a lot easier for residents like the centaurs and unicorns."

"Well, they're absolutely thrilled with us," Phoebe said, "so no worries on their end. I think they may be bringing their entire herd to ring the circle to protect us."

"If the magic of the ritual has improved us physically," Apolline pointed out, "then it's reasonable to suppose that it did the same for the centaurs who protected us the first time. And they'd have noticed it by now, too, so I wouldn't be surprised if they not only brought out their entire herd to benefit, but invited members of other herds, too."

"Which sounds remarkably like the decision of the Theledrion to come and participate," Phoebe said dryly.

Adrienne shrugged. "It's a little surprising, since they've never done anything like this before, but it makes sense. I think it will be a very remarkable evening."

* * *

 **Wednesday, April 14, 1995, Morning.**

 _ **CRASH!**_

Bacon, eggs, and sausages flew everywhere as a very old owl plowed into the Gryffindor table with his customary grace.

"Oh, Errol!" Ginny cried as she helped the bedraggled Weasley family owl out of the oatmeal while Ron tried to clean his feathers as best he could. Once they were done, they relieved the poor owl of the package he was carrying, at which point he hoisted himself into the air again and laboriously flapped away, looking like he might careen into a wall at any moment.

Inside the package were chocolate Easter eggs for all the Weasley children as well as for Jasmine and Hermione — except that there was a notable difference in the size of Hermione's. Whereas everyone else got one the size of a dragon egg, Hermione's was the size of a chicken egg.

Jasmine frowned as she looked back and forth at their two eggs, then frowned even more when she saw the hurt expression on Hermione's face. Catching Ginny's eye, she gestured to the eggs and asked, "Uh, Ginny, do you have any idea what's going on with this?"

Ginny just looked bewildered. "I have no idea. That's so bizarre."

"I think it was the _Daily Prophet_ article," Ron said regretfully.

"You mean Skeeter?" Jasmine asked in outrage. "Your mother believed that tripe?"

"Probably," Ron said, looking embarrassed. "She usually believes that sort of thing. Remember what I told you about the kinds of books she reads."

"Well, that won't do!" Jasmine declared angrily. Pulling out parchment and quill, she started scribbling furiously.

"What are you doing?" Hermione asked.

"Writing Mrs. Weasley a letter," Jasmine said. She didn't see the bug-eyed looks on the Weasley faces that surrounded them.

"You don't have to do that for me," Hermione insisted.

"Of course I don't," Jasmine conceded. She lifted her head to look Hermione directly in the eye. "But I want to do it. You don't deserve to be treated like this," she said, gesturing to the small egg she had received. "Mrs. Weasley is just lucky that I don't know how to send a howler yet!"

When she finished, she wrapped up their two eggs in the packaging that they came in, attached the letter, then waited.

A moment later, Hedwig glided into the Great Hall. When she landed, Jasmine attached the package and made a point of telling her familiar what was going on. If the look on Hedwig's face was anything to go by, she wasn't happy either and intended to add her two knuts when she arrived at the Burrow.

Once Hedwig was gone, Jasmine noticed that Ginny had a shocked expression on her face — and it was from the letter she was reading, not the one Jasmine had just written. When it looked like she was done, Jasmine asked, "What's wrong?"

"It's Percy," Ginny said. "He's under investigation. They were finally able to interview Mad-Eye Moody, and he reported that the Death Eater who captured him was Barty Crouch Jr., the son of Percy's boss, Barty Crouch. When the DMLE went looking for him, they discovered that he'd been out of the office for ages, sending in instructions for Percy, but he also wasn't at home. He's disappeared entirely. Apparently Percy ignored all sorts of rules and regulations so he could run the department in Crouch's name. Had he reported what was going on, the authorities might have figured out what was going on sooner — maybe soon enough to save Jasmine."

Ginny looked really embarrassed when she said that. "I'm so sorry, Jasmine. We all knew Percy was a git, but we had no idea that his attitude and ambition would lead to something like this!" The other Weasleys all voiced their strong agreement on all points — especially that Percy was a pompous git.

Jasmine took a deep breath before saying, "It's okay, guys. I can't blame you for how Percy behaves."

Inside, though, Jasmine was remembering all the times she had seen the name "Barty Crouch" in Moody's office when looking at the Marauder's Map, and wondered if maybe she could have saved herself if she'd said something to someone in authority.

* * *

 **Thursday, April 15, 1995, Evening.**

Jasmine and Hermione weren't sure exactly why the night of a full moon was an auspicious time to start new journeys and projects, but the pureblood witches raised in the magical community insisted that it was, and so the two Gryffindors agreed to formally inaugurate their new group on the full moon of April. Everyone gathered in the Transfiguration classroom so Professor McGonagall could supervise as seven witches participated in a ritual to symbolically "give birth" to the group.

There were also two wizards in attendance, Blaise and Neville. Both supported the group and would have participated, but Susan argued that while wizards should be allowed to join, witches should be responsible for launching it, and Daphne pointed out that the number seven was arithmantically significant enough to warrant restricting the ritual to just the witches regardless. Neither Blaise nor Neville objected and were content to wait on the side of the room.

The entire process went relatively quickly, with the witches adopting — albeit reluctantly — the name "Society for the Promotion of Equality for Witches" and the mission statement: "We emphasize wherever possible _what witches can do_ — for ourselves, for each other — in staying healthy, healing ourselves, and working for change."

Although the ritual was interesting, Jasmine couldn't help but regard it as a little childish — like children playing house. She knew that it was unkind of her, but after the **real** rituals she had participated in in the past few months, both dark and light, it was hard not to see this as anything but superficial. She didn't say anything, of course, though she wondered if Hermione was having similar thoughts. She didn't ask because she was too annoyed at how smug Hermione looked over the adoption of S.P.E.W. as the group's name.

It was only much later, when she was alone in bed, that Jasmine remembered that the ritual Voldemort used to come back had also been held on the night of the full moon — and that he had probably picked it for the same reasons.

Despite insisting very hard in her mind that she was not a victim and would not continue to be victimized, she couldn't hold back the sobs as she pressed her face into her pillow, hoping not to alert Hermione to her distress.

* * *

 **Thursday, April 15, 1995, Night.**

Albus Dumbledore looked around at the houses along Privet Drive and wondered at the sameness of them all. He respected muggles (even if he didn't want wizarding traditions to be overwhelmed by muggle practices and methods), but he could never understand how any of them could live in such bland, unimaginative surroundings.

He briefly considered whether growing up in such an environment might have negatively impacted Jasmine Potter's psychological development, but quickly pushed it aside as being ultimately irrelevant now. His current mission was to improve the protections around Miss Potter's home, something he probably should have done sooner but was determined not to put off any longer. He'd failed her miserably this year so far and had vowed to do better. She deserved nothing less than his best.

Once he had extinguished all the lights and was standing in front of #4 Privet Drive, he pulled out his wand and began to inspect the wards, immediately despairing at the poor state of the blood wards he'd erected so many years ago. He had already known that they were weak — he had gotten that information from one of the devices in his office — but direct inspection revealed that they were much worse than he had realized.

Since they were powered by familial love, he had to wonder where the weak link was: did the Dursleys lack the necessary love, or was it Jasmine herself? The latter could prove disastrous, and would be consistent with the hate he saw in her eyes before the second task. Given that the rest of the Dursley family was still together, he doubted that they lacked love. _I'll have to investigate this further when I'm back at Hogwarts_ , he decided. _For now, I need to get to work putting protections in place._

Dumbledore then proceeded to install several new protection wards as well as warning wards that would notify him of anyone magical and not keyed in if they came within a hundred meter radius. Finally, he installed a special ward against house elves. He had been meaning to do that ever since Jasmine reported during her second year that she'd been accosted in her home by a house elf — an elf that had proven clever enough to even steal her mail! Should a Death Eater figure out how to send an elf on a more nefarious mission, Miss Potter would be dead before Dumbledore could even receive a warning. Now, though, no house elves would be able to get anywhere near the Dursley residence.

He was tired from the effort he'd expended, but he couldn't rest yet because he wasn't done — he still wanted to put similar wards around the Granger residence. He could not in good conscience protect Jasmine while leaving her close friend vulnerable. After a short walk he apparated to Crawley, where the Grangers lived, and got to work once again. It would be very late indeed before he was able to return to Hogwarts.

* * *

 **Friday, April 16, 1995, Evening.**

Adrienne read and re-read the reply she had just received from the Theledrion regarding her latest report about the effects of the recent Eostre ritual celebration. A knock signalled the arrival of Apolline, so she unsealed the door and let the other veela in.

"Is that the response?" she asked before she even sat down. "Already?"

Adrienne nodded and said, "You're going to have to go back to the centaurs to see if they will let us expand the circle even more."

"Why?" Apolline asked with dread in her voice.

"Now it seems that the entire Theledrion is coming."

"That's not so bad," Apolline responded. "That isn't very many more participants."

"With most of their families," Adrienne said. "And a good portion of the upper echelons of our Amazzi, including almost all of our elite units."

Apolline's eyes widened in disbelief. "Sweet Morgana! They can't!"

"Oh, they can and they will," Adrienne said. "They are not only increasing the number of other prominent members of our society, but they will also be talking to select witches from France, Spain, Portugal, Italy, Greece, Turkey, Germany, and Bulgaria. There will be researchers, healers, and even some government officials, I think."

"How are we going to accommodate them all?" Apolline asked desperately. "And what will the British say?"

"They are bringing six more carriages like this one," Adrienne answered, "all with far more extensive expansion charms. As to the British, they are creating a cover story by arranging meetings with representatives of the British Ministry over the incident with your youngest daughter."

Apolline barely suppressed the appearance of feathers along her arms at the reminder of what she had nearly lost. It had been necessary to hold her back from storming into the headmaster's office and burning everything to cinders, and while she'd been promised that justice would be done, clearly it wasn't going to happen immediately.

Once she got herself back under control, Apolline said, "We are going to have to protect our two English witches." When Adrienne gave her a questioning look, she explained, "We don't want them mobbed by dignitaries and strangers. Miss Potter in particular seems sensitive to large crowds. It was easy to protect them when the rituals were small, but with a crowd this large it will be far more difficult."

Adrienne nodded in understanding. After taking some notes on a fresh piece of parchment, she said, "I can ask Phoebe and Areto to stay close to them; I'm sure your daughter Fleur was going to do that anyway. I'll also write back to the Theledrion to make sure they understand that those girls need to be treated respectfully."

After a few moments thought, Adrienne added, "We may also have a problem with their reaction to the Beltane ritual."

"How so?" Apolline asked.

"Beltane is much more intensely sexual in nature," Adrienne reminded her. "I could tell both were flushed with magical energy and excitement after Eostre when I escorted them out of the forest, and it will be much, much worse at Beltane. We know that they are romantically involved and that they have a bond which will be encouraging the development of their relationship — not just emotionally and psychologically, but also physically and magically. If you add all that together..."

"The result will be that if they aren't already sexually active, then they will be before Beltane is over," Apolline finished. "And I'm sure that they wouldn't be comfortable doing something in public view, whether it's their first time or not."

"So that's two concerns," Adrienne said. "When Fleur invites them tomorrow, she needs to warn them about the power of the sexual energy that will be affecting all of us that night. They shouldn't come if they aren't willing to accept that — and we can't pressure them, either."

Apolline sighed. "I can at least get something to create a bit of privacy if they do decide to participate and if they can't make it out of the circle in time. Maybe a magical emergency shelter? We can offer them that much, at least."

"Good," Adrienne said. "Tell Fleur about this and then grab Phoebe so you two can go talk to your centaur stud again. I've got to work on a new letter to the Theledrion." She smirked as she turned back to her desk while Apolline swallowed back an outraged objection and hurried out of the office.

* * *

 **Saturday, April 17, 1995, Morning.**

When Jasmine and Hermione met Fleur in their training classroom, they weren't expecting to get invited to yet another holiday celebration. "You enjoyed ze last two, oui?" Fleur asked.

"Yes, absolutely," they both answered.

"Bon," Fleur said, "zen we would love to 'ave you come to ze Beltane celebration on ze thirtieth." Although she had invited them to other celebrations, she was nervous about this meeting because Beltane was a lot more intense than the other two had been.

"OK," Jasmine said, "that would be great." After a moment's thought, she added, "I don't suppose that any of our friends from the study group and now SPEW" — she heard Hermione mutter "S.P.E.W." under her breath — "could be invited as well? I think they'd enjoy it."

Fleur's eyes widened. "Ah, non, I don't zink zat would be a good idea, and for reasons zat I need to discuss with you anyway. You know what ze others were doing after you left ze ritual circle on Eostre, oui?" When the other two nodded, Fleur continued, "Ze magical and sexual energies will be much stronger on Beltane because ze date eez much more about fertility. And zere will be more people zere, also increasing ze energies. Your friends may 'ave trouble 'andling it, not 'aving participated in any similar rituals before."

Jasmine and Hermione looked taken aback. "You two must also zink about zis," she went on, "and whether it eez zomething you are comfortable with. I cannot say 'ow strongly ze magic will affect you, but it will probably be stronger zan on Eostre. If you 'ave not been intimate with each other before, you may not be able to resist becoming intimate at Beltane."

"That's... pretty serious," Jasmine said slowly. She looked at Hermione to see what she was thinking, but unusually she couldn't — she looked just as conflicted and uncertain as Jasmine felt. "Maybe you could give us until Monday morning to think about it? I can send Hedwig with an answer."

"Zat eez fine," Fleur said, not having expected anything else. Even with their special bond maturing them at a faster rate than their peers and encouraging their relationship to develop, they were still only marginally old enough for an event like Beltane — and that was only because the veela were more accepting of physical intimacy than most other cultures. Gabrielle, who was a year younger than them, hadn't been allowed to stay after the previous ritual and probably wouldn't be allowed to stay after this one, either, though she was sure to protest that.

 _If the goddesses want them to be there, then they will be there_ , Fleur concluded. _And if the goddesses will it that they participate, then they are old enough._

* * *

 **Saturday, April 17, 1995, Afternoon.**

The first session of defense practice for the core members of S.P.E.W. was awkward and confusing — neither Jasmine nor Hermione had ever even considered teaching a class about anything, so despite Hermione's best efforts to be organized and plan ahead, it was still rough going at times. Nevertheless, everyone got something out of it and proclaimed it a success. The fact that Professor McGonagall had volunteered to supervise helped a lot, too.

The most important accomplishment was getting everyone to understand the importance of regular practice. "If you're studying for a test," Jasmine told them, "then it's fine to practice a spell a few times until you know you can get it right when the teacher asks you to do it and then move on. That doesn't prepare you for a fight, however." She fixed them all with a very serious look. "To have any chance of coming out of a real fight in one piece, you have to be able to use offensive and defensive spells as if they were second nature. You can't spend time thinking about proper wand movements or incantations — you have to do it and then just as quickly move on to your next spell."

She waited a moment to let that sink in before continuing, "That means constant practice. It means you cast the same spells over and over and over. You practice for accuracy. You practice for speed. You practice until you can cast spells while whispering or even silently. The more often you do it during training, the easier it will be to do when others are attacking you. Or when you're injured. Or when your friends are injured."

In hindsight, trying to hold the first session in a classroom hadn't been a very good idea, but the Gryffindors hadn't been sure if they wanted to reveal the secret of the Room of Requirement just yet. It wouldn't be possible to continue with defense lessons without it, however, so Jasmine, Hermione, and Neville agreed to go ahead and do that next time.

They also agreed with Susan's suggestion that they adopt a new name for training. Hermione objected at first, fearing that her beloved S.P.E.W. was being replaced, but Susan assured her that it was simply to prevent anyone from thinking that the witches' equality group was involved in raising an army. So they christened their defense practice club the "DA" or "Defense Association," something relatively innocuous sounding — or so they hoped.

Although it was rather late in the term for a group like this to provide a great deal of benefit, they all still agreed to switch one of their two weekly study sessions to a defense practical session. Jasmine and Hermione would teach while Professor McGonagall would supervise and ensure that no one got hurt. Given the looming threat of Voldemort, it seemed like a wise trade-off.

* * *

 **Sunday, April 18, 1995, Afternoon.**

Because of the important decision they had to make, it was only natural that they would consult Professor McGonagall about the subject when they met for their weekly tea. As it turned out, the people in her village had celebrated Beltane when she was very young, and she had enjoyed all of the different things the community did during the day. Due to her age, however, she hadn't been allowed to take part in the festivities after a certain hour.

"My Bonnie and I bunked together those nights," Minerva explained with a wistful look in her eyes, "but instead of going to sleep like we were supposed to, we'd go into the loft area above the bedrooms, then climb out on the roof so we could watch. Oh, it was terribly dangerous for us to be out there at any time, much less in the dark, but we never gave any thought to that."

She took a sip of her tea and was quiet for a moment as she reflected on happier memories. "Growing up in a community that raised livestock, we were no strangers to sex. We couldn't be — not with it going on around us all the time. But it was still odd seeing our parents and the other adults we knew doing the same things. And yet somehow it **wasn't** the same: in the midst of all the swirling magical energies, it was also completely different."

She almost seemed to blush a little when she said, "Even at a young age, I was affected by those energies. I didn't really understand it, and I don't think Bonnie did, either. We never talked about it, but I know I felt tingling and had a powerful urge to do... well, **something**. I had no idea what at the time, but of course I do now." After another sip of tea, she added, "It's no wonder that we were excluded — we simply couldn't understand or act on those urges and feelings."

"So people below a certain age shouldn't participate?" Hermione asked.

"Not in certain Beltane activities, no," Minerva said. "Even watching from a distance is problematic because the magic will reach and affect you. But once you reach an age where you can understand and handle what the magic does to you, then it's an option." She looked at both of them carefully and said, "That doesn't mean it's for everyone, because it's not. It's just an option."

"We have been invited to a Beltane ritual celebration, as you probably guessed," Jasmine admitted, "but we haven't decided whether to accept."

"That's why we're doing the research," Hermione added. "We would have been eager to go, given how much we enjoyed Eostre, but we were warned by Fleur that there would be more people, much more sexual energy, and that we might not be able to avoid being... well, uh, intimate." She blushed a bit when she said the last, not entirely comfortable yet talking about that topic with her professor.

Minerva nodded. "Granted, my experiences were quite a few years ago, but I would say that sounds about right. Is it something you're prepared for?"

"That's the question," Jasmine said, looking down at her lap. "That's what we're trying to figure out."

"Well, it has to be your decision," Minerva said. "I would caution you not to rush into intimacy. It's not something you want to regret because you did it too soon, when you weren't ready. On the other hand, you don't want to avoid it in the expectation that there is some sort of 'perfect' time or situation. It's something wonderful and beautiful if it's with the right person, and only you will be able to determine if you are truly ready. If you are, and if you're with the right person, **that** is what will make it perfect."

* * *

 **Sunday, April 18, 1995, Evening.**

Fred and George Weasley were sitting alone in a corner of the Gryffindor common room, their heads close together. Their fellow Gryffindors knew from experience that the looks on their faces meant trouble for someone, so they all stayed well away to avoid becoming that someone. It wasn't that the boys were angry, just very… determined. Scarily determined.

"So, uglier brother," said one twin, "that room was in use for most of the day yesterday, and what did we learn?"

"Nothing, eviler brother," said the other, "and all of our eavesdropping charms appear to have been removed. Again."

"It would seem that the ickle witches are cleverer than we gave them credit for," observed the first.

"By quite a large margin, too," agreed the second. "That's not a mistake we can afford to make again."

"Indeed," said the first. "We'll have to step up our efforts to learn their secrets."

"And succeed we will," promised the second, "or our names aren't Fred and George!"

"I thought we were George and Fred?" objected the first twin.

"Ehh," responded the other twin with a shrug, "close enough."

Neither noticed that they themselves were currently the targets of close observation as two sets of tennis ball-sized eyes — one green and one brown — watched their every move while two sets of bat-like ears listened to every word.

George and Fred Weasley liked to think of themselves as creative, but they had yet to learn the meaning of the word.

* * *

 **Sunday, April 18, 1995, Night.**

"So," Hermione said as she and Jasmine sat in the brown-eyed witch's bed.

"So," Jasmine repeated back, knowing what Hermione was trying to get at but feeling just as uncomfortable as she evidently did.

"Oh, sod it," Hermione finally blurted out. "There's no reason why we should be so embarrassed like this. Do you want to go to the Beltane celebration or not?"

Jasmine exhaled heavily, "Yes, I think so. I mean, I am pretty nervous about it. I guess I would be a bit nervous regardless, especially if there are going to be more people, but what Fleur said about how intense it could be... I just... well, I don't know. It makes me nervous. But I enjoyed the feelings I got after the Eostre ritual, so I can't imagine that it would be **bad**. Just, you know, stronger? More intense?"

A look of impatience crossed her features as she ran a hand through her auburn hair. "I dunno. Am I making any sense at all?"

Hermione smiled. "Yes, I think so. And I feel the same way: nervous, conflicted, a little scared, a little excited. But you did understand what Fleur meant about becoming intimate, right?" When Jasmine nodded, Hermione went on, "It may not happen, but I think we should play it safe and assume that it will if we go. That means if we go, it's because we're willing to... no, if we go, it's because we **want** to take that step with each other. It's not simply something that we're merely okay with, and it's not something that simply happens to us in the heat of the moment. We either embrace it, or we don't go."

"Wow," Jasmine said, "when you lay it out like that, you make it sound so... serious."

Hermione smiled, remembering that Jasmine had already described the situation that way the previous day.

Jasmine continued, "It feels kind of odd, planning something like that out in advance. Shouldn't it, you know, be spontaneous? When it feels right?"

Hermione shook her head. "It does often happen that way, but that often leads to regrets. You're more likely to regret something that you let happen to you in the heat of the moment than something you consciously plan for in advance."

Jasmine smirked a little. "Why am I not surprised that you'd say something like that?"

"But it's true!" Hermione protested. "And it's not something I came up with, I'll have you know. It's something my mother impressed upon me in more than one of our talks. Though to be perfectly honest, she said this in the context of explaining why I should wait for marriage."

"I guess you're not following that advice now?" Jasmine asked.

A troubled look crossed Hermione's features. "I always appreciated the advice my mother gave me on this subject, but much of it seems... irrelevant now. It was obviously given under the assumption that I'd end up with a boy, which clearly isn't going to be the case. Unwanted pregnancies aren't an issue. And then there's the small matter that we can't legally get married…." She sighed. "I guess I'm going to have to discard more of her advice than I ever imagined I might."

"I'm sorry, I..." Jasmine started to say, only to be quickly interrupted.

"Don't apologize, and don't change the subject. My point was, I don't ever want you to regret us taking such a step together." Hermione reached out and took Jasmine's hand in hers before continuing, "I don't ever want you to regret **anything** we do together, but **especially** that. I want you to want it, but I also want you to want it for the right reasons."

Jasmine stared down at their clasped hands for a long moment, then looked up at her and asked, "What about you? How do you feel about it?"

Hermione shook her head in tolerant amusement. "No, I'm not going to prejudice your decision. I want you to be able to say what you want on your own."

Jasmine sighed, then smiled slightly before giving her answer.


	56. Like a Prayer

**A/N:** This is easily one of my favorite chapters in the whole story — I hope you like it, too.

And really, was it that hard to figure out what Jasmine's answer would be? :)

 **Recommendation:** This chapter's recommended fic is "Harry Potter and the Sword of Gryffindor" by cloneserpents. This is best described as a bawdy sex comedy, and really, nothing more needs to be said.

* * *

 **Chapter 56 - Like a Prayer**

 **Saturday, April 24, 1995, Morning.**

Albus Dumbledore looked around at his colleagues, none of whom wanted to be there. Neither did he, for that matter, but he really didn't have a choice. He had to advise them of circumstances which he'd been informed about the previous day — informed about, but not allowed to have any say in. He wasn't accustomed to being told what would happen around his school as if his opinion didn't matter.

"Good morning, everyone," he said, "I'm sorry for calling you all into an emergency staff meeting, but a situation has developed that you all need to be made aware of." This got everyone's attention. "Yesterday, the Minister of Magic notified me that a large contingent of magicals from the continent will be coming here. They will be mostly French, including quite a few veela, but there will also be Germans, Spanish, Italians, Greeks, and more. They will be in discussions with representatives of the Ministry about what happened during the second task, and while they are here, they will be holding a Beltane celebration in the Forbidden Forest."

"Why in Merlin's name are they doing that here?" Sprout asked.

"I'm not sure," Dumbledore admitted. "I suppose they chose this place because there is already a contingent of French magicals, and this is where the second task was held."

"Isn't the Forbidden Forest too dangerous for any sort of celebration?" Flitwick asked. "I can't imagine that the centaurs will accept them."

Dumbledore sighed. "In point of fact, I already tried to investigate that. Hagrid entered the forest yesterday evening to address this with the centaurs. He was told in no uncertain terms by Bane that the French would be welcomed and that we were not to interfere."

"That is very curious," Flitwick observed. "Did Bane say anything else?"

"Unfortunately, no," Dumbledore answered. "He simply insisted that Hagrid leave because they had preparations to make. Hagrid did note, however, that the Forbidden Forest was looking much brighter in one area, presumably a product of whatever the centaurs are doing."

"Very curious indeed," Flitwick said. "It's unusual enough for centaurs to be welcoming of witches or wizards, but now to learn that they are making changes to their land in order to accommodate them... I've never heard of such a thing."

Dumbledore nodded. "You're quite right, Filius. Unfortunately, Hogwarts has been allowed no input on this — we are simply expected to play host to the six new carriages and not interfere with their movement back and forth to the forest."

"Will we be expected to provide anything for them from the castle?" McGonagall asked.

"No, not unless there is an emergency," Dumbledore said. "They will be taking care of their own food and other amenities, fortunately. I'd like you to tell your houses that the visitors will be arriving on Wednesday and leaving the following Friday. The students are to leave them alone and may not enter the forest under any circumstances. Any questions?"

Once everyone had left, Dumbledore sat alone and thought again about why this was happening and whether it could be connected to Tom in any way. _No, that seems too unlikely_ , he thought, _given his feeling about magical "beasts" and "creatures." Still, this is all very odd... and he has made odd decisions before. I'll have to keep an eye on things, if I can._

* * *

 **Friday, April 30, 1995, Morning.**

The Great Hall fell silent as Headmaster Dumbledore tapped his glass with his spoon and stood up behind the staff table. "Quiet, please," he said, "I have an important announcement to make."

He looked around to make sure that he had everyone's attention before proceeding, "By now you should all be aware of the six new carriages parked outside next to the Beauxbatons carriage, as well as the large contingent of European magicals and veela being housed in them. You should also have been informed that you are not to bother them."

Seeing the lack of surprise at this news, he continued. "Tonight is Beltane, an ancient holiday which is no longer recognized by British magical society but which is still celebrated in some places, including some regions of France. I have been informed that our visitors will be holding a Beltane celebration in the Forbidden Forest." He didn't notice Hermione and Jasmine giving each other a significant look.

"Students of Hogwarts are **not** invited," Dumbledore went on. "You are all to remain in the castle. None are permitted, under any circumstances, to approach or join in the ritual celebration. This is not just Hogwarts policy, but is in fact the policy of the Ministry of Magic. I have been told that the centaurs have agreed to provide security for the ritual, and they will not tolerate intruders."

Dumbledore's expression turned much sterner when he concluded, "Anyone caught even attempting to join the French in their celebration of Beltane will be subject to the strongest of punishments, up to and including expulsion if the situation warrants it."

The Great Hall practically exploded as everyone tried to talk at once about the news. Only some of the pureblood students were even aware of Beltane and how it was celebrated. Those students found themselves suddenly very popular as those around them wanted to know everything — and only became even more interested when they discovered the highly sexual nature of many celebrations. Now they knew why they had been forbidden from participating.

They also now had even more incentive for trying anyway, provided they were willing to risk the severe penalties.

Before he left the staff table, Dumbledore leaned over to Professor McGonagall and said, "This morning I received a message from the Ministry. Apparently the French want to hold their primary discussions today, and Cornelius insists that I be there. The multinational nature of the delegation has made him very nervous, and he'd be unwilling to face them alone even if they weren't already insisting on my presence. I expect to be gone most of the day and have no idea when I'll be back, so I'll be leaving you in charge of the castle until I return." McGonagall nodded at this, though as she watched him leave, she couldn't help but wonder if the timing was really coincidence.

* * *

 **Friday, April 30, 1995, Evening. 7:00 PM.**

When Hermione and Jasmine landed in the small area enclosed by the six large French carriages, they were much more nervous about participating in this magical ritual than they had been for the previous two — and it didn't have anything to do with the contents of the ritual or the very likely outcome for the two of them. At least, not anymore — the headmaster's announcement that morning had made them far more worried about possible expulsion for what they were attempting.

That was why they had applied strong disillusionment charms to themselves before putting on Jasmine's invisibility cloak for the broom ride out of their dormitory window. It was also why they had spent a bit of time with Professor McGonagall to convince her to provide them with a cover story and some help in case anyone started looking for them. They had taken as many precautions as they could, but they were still nervous about what might happen.

"Welcome," Fleur said when they arrived and before they had either removed the cloak or cancelled the disillusionment charms. "Take zese," she said as she handed them two shifts. "We will be wearing green tonight instead of white."

Once they were wearing the green shifts and nothing else, they were put in the center of a large group of veela who walked briskly into the forest. "Wow," Jasmine said, "it looks so much brighter and nicer for some reason. I remember how scary it was when I had to come here in my first year."

"Oui," Fleur responded, "ze effects of ze Eostre ritual 'ave been much greater zan anticipated. Zere is new growth over a large area. Zat is why more of my people 'ave come to participate and why ze centaurs were so 'appy to 'elp again." It was only then that Jasmine and Hermione realized that the large, looming shapes in the distant shadows were centaurs — quite a lot of them, in fact.

When they reached the ritual circle, the two Gryffindor witches discovered that it was much larger and had a big, roaring fire in the center. Just off to the side of the fire was an altar, arranged as usual except with two statues on either side. "Typically we only honor two goddesses during a ritual," Fleur explained when Hermione asked about the difference. "Zis time, 'owever, zere are so many 'ere and ze celebration is so large zat zey decided to include four. Zere is Artemis and Aphrodite like before, as well as Ishtar and Isis. Some say that all ze goddesses are really just different aspects of a single goddess, so ze number may not even matter very much."

"How many are here, anyway," Jasmine asked nervously as she looked at the large number of witches dancing and talking around the central fire in their identical green shifts.

"I do not know," Fleur admitted, "but I zink zere are several hundred at least."

"More will leave at ze end zan entered at ze beginning," Gabrielle added with a smile as she watched Jasmine closely.

"What do you mean?" Hermione asked. "That doesn't make any sense."

"It eez believed zat a child conceived on Beltane, and especially in ze Beltane ritual circle, is blessed by ze goddesses and by Magic itself," Fleur explained. "I am certain zat zere are many couples 'ere tonight who are 'oping zat zey will be with child before ze end." None of them noticed the look that Phoebe and Areto gave each other.

When they approached the entrance to the ritual circle, each was anointed on her forehead with sacred oil and then given an amazing garland of wildflowers for her head. According to the veela who gave them the garlands, they were created from the flowers which had grown from the seeds spread during the Eostre celebration — a mixture of white and pink anemone, bluebells, primrose, tiny marsh violets, and a few daffodils.

* * *

 **Friday, April 30, 1995, Night. 7:30 PM.**

Hermione and Jasmine spent some time walking around the circle, watching the other witches dance and sing. Both felt the magical energy swirling around them, tempting them to join, but neither felt entirely comfortable with either singing or dancing among so many strangers.

The entire time Fleur, Gabrielle, and two other veela who had been introduced as Phoebe and Areto stayed close by. Both Hermione and Jasmine wondered who Phoebe and Areto really were. They, like some of the other veela they saw in the circle, were noticeably taller, broader, and stronger than any women they'd ever seen. They also all carried themselves differently: they walked straighter and more confidently, and their eyes were constantly moving as if looking for something.

Before long, incense sticks were handed out, and everyone was expected to form large concentric circles around the fire. Behind those with the incense sticks were others carrying candles so that everyone could light their incense from common flames. Once the entire gathering was quiet, a woman entered the circle and approached the altar. Jasmine recognized her as Céleste, an important veela they had been introduced to as they mingled with other witches in the circle. When Céleste had everyone's attention, she began to speak.

"Welcome, sisters! And welcome, spring!" This was greeted with a loud cheer from the entire assembly.

"In the past we have celebrated the slow advance of the maiden over the crone, of life over death, and of spring over winter. Today, though, we celebrate that victory!" Again there were cheers, and the two Gryffindor witches started to feel a buildup of magic around them.

"We gather this evening around the fire of life to celebrate as one community all of the life, love, and bounty we have to share with one another. Tonight we dance! Tonight we sing! Tonight we once again experience what it means to achieve a sacred union with the magic of the goddesses and of the Earth herself."

More cheers followed Céleste's proclamation, and both Jasmine and Hermione felt themselves carried along as they cheered, too. The energy of the crowd distracted them from noticing tiny motes of magical energy emerging from the ground and starting to drift around their feet. They barely even noticed how they, like all of the other witches there, gradually felt more and more energized as the ritual went on, but it was something they were becoming accustomed to at celebrations like this.

Raising her arms, Céleste turned to the altar and began to speak. "Goddess of earth and green, we ask for your blessing!" She then threw a powdery substance into the central fire, creating a small explosion of colored smoke. "Goddess of fertility and motherhood, we ask for your blessing!" More powder was thrown, and Jasmine could now smell that it must have been an incense of some sort. "Goddess of love and intimacy, we ask for your blessing!" Yet more incense was thrown, and Jasmine thought that it was starting to affect her — or something was, at any rate, because she was sure she could see colorful motes of light moving in and around the gathered women.

"Great Goddess of life and magic, we offer you this sacrifice that you might give us your blessings for bounty, for wisdom, for strength, for harmony, and for love in the coming year!" This time there was nothing in Céleste's hands when she threw them out towards the fire, but the rest of the assembled women mimicked her action — including Jasmine and Hermione, after a moment's hesitation — and all the motes of light which Jasmine had just observed rushed into the fire, causing flames to shoot up a few dozen meters into the evening sky.

Once the fire subsided again, the women who had previously distributed the incense sticks began passing out seeds. "With the resurgence of light and life," Céleste was saying, "the earth is filling with energy. It is up to us to plant the seeds that will use that energy to provide food to sustain us for another year."

"Zese seeds are for food-producing plants," Fleur explained in a whisper, "unlike ze seeds last time, which were for flowers."

Everyone turned their backs to the fire and walked out to the edge of the ritual circle, where the forest met the grassy ground. "We now spread the seeds of life," Céleste called out, "just as we must spread the seeds of wisdom, of strength, and of harmony. Just as we receive from the goddesses, we give to the earth; as we receive from the earth, we return to the goddesses."

With that, everyone once again threw out their hands as they had done earlier, but this time to toss the seeds into the Forbidden Forest. Hermione and Jasmine were surprised to see that the seeds didn't simply arc out a meter or two and fall; instead, a magical wind seemed to shoot out of the fire and carry the seeds far beyond what they could see in the waning light of the approaching sunset.

* * *

 **Friday, April 30, 1995, Night. 8:30 PM.**

Once everyone had returned to their previous positions, Céleste announced that it was time for the courtship of the goddesses. Hermione had explained to Jasmine that in traditional Beltane celebrations, one man assumed the role of the horned god and one woman assumed the role of the maiden goddess; the former would chase the latter, eventually kissing her when he caught her. Sometimes they went quite a bit further, too. Hermione hadn't been sure how it would work out in an all-female ritual.

"Normally," Céleste said, "two of us are chosen in advance to serve the goddesses. This time, because of the greater magical energy which I know you are all feeling, I thought we'd try something different — I thought we'd let the goddesses decide for themselves who among us will be their vessels!" This produced a great deal of murmuring throughout the assembly. "Each of the garlands you are wearing has been spelled. I'm going to say a silent prayer to the goddesses and throw a sacrifice of incense into the fire. Those chosen will have their garlands transform: one with horns to represent the Hunter, and one that will flow down to the shoulders to represent the Hunted."

While Céleste knelt in prayer in front of the altar, Jasmine noticed that small drums were being distributed to some of the participants — primarily those who appeared to be stronger and taller, in fact. After a few minutes, Céleste's prayer was complete and she threw incense into the fire again. Then… nothing happened. Jasmine had been able to feel the anticipation building, but when nothing at all happened, she couldn't help but feel disappointed.

Then she noticed that more and more faces were turning in her direction. She started to look behind her, trying to see if something was happening with one of the witches in the next circle, but as she turned in Hermione's direction she saw that her garland was growing long, cascading down her shoulders. "Hermione," she croaked out, pointing to her girlfriend's head. Before she could say anything more, however, Hermione pointed back at her, and she suddenly noticed crackling, snapping sounds near her ears. Raising her hands, she felt her own garland growing up and out.

They both looked at each other, eyes wide, uncertain what to do next. Then the drums all started beating in unison, a slow, deliberate rhythm that Jasmine could feel somewhere deep in her abdomen, and Hermione took a slow step backwards. Jasmine narrowed her eyes and instinctively took a step towards her. Hermione moved two more steps backwards, a bit quicker this time, and Jasmine immediately followed suit. Hermione's face acquired a seductive smile as she started backing up, staying in motion now, while Jasmine pursued.

Jasmine no longer heard any of the drums, even though they were gradually beating faster and louder. All she could hear was her own heart. Faster and faster it pounded in her chest as the two witches wove in and out of the concentric circles of women around the fire. Sometimes she would close on her prey, and sometimes her prey would get farther away, but she never got out of sight. They were surrounded by a forest of billowing green and pulsating magic, but the green of her prey was always visible to her, standing out like a beacon in a storm.

Jasmine no longer heard the roaring fire, either. That was overwhelmed by the rushing of blood in her ears as she and her prey danced an eternal dance, travelling around the circle three times, spiraling inward until they found themselves in front of the altar — an altar which neither of them saw, because for them nothing existed in the entire universe except each other, and they had no purpose for existence except the chase….

The chase, and finally the capture, as the Hunted allowed herself to be caught. For she never truly wanted to escape the Hunter in the first place. She merely wanted to entice, to tempt, to seduce. She wanted to be sure that she would never be taken for granted. In her own way, _she_ was doing the hunting, drawing in her target so they could be united at a time and place of _her_ choosing.

Seizing her prey and pulling her into a tight embrace, Jasmine's glowing green eyes stared deeply into Hermione's brown ones — brown eyes that glowed as if lit from behind with a blue light. They recognized each other, not only as friend, partner, and soon lover, but also now seeing in each other aspects of the eternal maiden, mother, and crone, linking the human with the divine via mind, magic, and soul.

As the two kissed passionately and lowered themselves to the ground, the drums abruptly stopped and a cheer rose up from the assembly as they celebrated a union of bodies and spirits which represented the creation of life and love. It didn't take long for everyone else to start imitating the Chosen Couple, but not before Apolline stepped in and pulled out a self-expanding magical shelter. Less than a full tent, it was designed to provide simple emergency shelter for witches and wizards stranded in desolate areas. With a quick flick of her wrist, it flew up in the air, expanded itself into an orange dome, and dropped over the kissing couple, who were already shedding their shifts and who had long since forgotten that anyone else even existed, much less might be watching.

The Chosen Couple was also completely unaware of the magic swelling all around them. Produced in great abundance by the many hundreds of couples and groups spread around the ritual circle, magical energy from them as well as the earth started flowing into Jasmine and Hermione like a tide under a full moon. They, however, were intensely focused on an intimate activity which both had much practice with as individuals, but had never engaged in together as a couple.

Slowly their own magical energies built up, then faster, pressure and pleasure growing ever larger, until finally a pinnacle was reached and the two witches found release, unleashing the combined magic — theirs, the other couples', and the earth's — with a strength that had been multiplied far, far more than anyone could have imagined.

The magic exploded outward like a tsunami, inducing powerful climaxes in each couple it crashed over and causing their own pent-up energy to be released as well. As these newer, smaller waves of magical energy joined the first, they added to it, causing it to grow ever stronger as it roared across the grass and towards the edge of the Forbidden Forest.

Nothing could have prepared the residents of the forest for what was about to happen. Even the centaurs, who in their eagerness had thought themselves ready to reap the benefits of the witches' ritual, could not have anticipated either the oncoming tsunami of magic or what it would leave in its wake.

The centaurs patrolling closest to the circle had no warning, just a feeling of pressure and a tingling sensation before they were knocked over and in some cases rendered unconscious. Those farther away were warned by the plight of their kin and managed to brace themselves, then rushed to help the others once the wave had passed. None were harmed, for despite their belligerence none were dark. All through the forest, beings and plants that were aligned with the light were buffeted, but ultimately left healthier and stronger than before.

All those aligned with the dark, in contrast, suffered terribly. In one area where a large acromantula nest had been growing for several decades, the magical wave scoured away the darkness, shredding flesh and webbing, until there was nothing left but bare earth that waited for seed and water so life could start anew. For the first time in centuries, the Forbidden Forest was completely cleansed of darkness, leaving unicorns, centaurs, fairies, thestrals, and other creatures free to live unmolested.

When the wave reached Hogwarts, some of the magic was absorbed, but most was diverted around, continuing on across Scotland. Had the Headmaster been there instead of at a meeting in the Ministry, he might have investigated.

Even Hogsmeade was affected, with magic in the village being strengthened and the residents rendered healthier, stronger, and happier. It would be a while, though, before arrogant wizards and witches in magical Britain deigned to notice.

* * *

 **Friday, April 30, 1995, Night. 10:20 PM.**

Back in the emergency shelter, a magical glow surrounded Jasmine and Hermione which went beyond anything that had developed previously. It would still be a while before the two glowing masses of energy could fully integrate because this wasn't the sort of thing that could be rushed — whether physically, emotionally, or magically. Their bond was nevertheless making steady progress towards completion.

It also occurred that Hermione finally noticed the glow surrounding them. She was, however, quite busy with other things and assumed it was one of the many magical effects of Beltane, filing the information in the back of her mind.

In #12 Grimmauld Place, Sirius Black awoke in a panic when a massive explosion destroyed the ground floor sitting room and rocked the entire house. In Gringotts, in Little Hangleton, and in an odd dimensional pocket connected to Hogwarts, three other related dark artifacts started screaming, while in the Malfoy manor in Wiltshire, the recently re-embodied Lord Voldemort passed out from the unprecedented pain he was experiencing.

He would be unconscious for almost two days.

* * *

 **Friday, April 30, 1995, Night. 11:05 PM.**

Brown hair mixed with auburn on a pillow created from clothing as two young witches tried to talk about what was happening to them. Lying on their sides almost nose to nose, it was easy to forget the rest of the world while focusing just on each other.

"I notice that you've said 'I love you' to me a couple of times recently," Hermione said, using one finger to stroke lightly along Jasmine's chin and jawline. The swelling was finally gone, but she kept thinking about how much it must have hurt.

"I noticed you said it back," Jasmine responded.

"You didn't say it because of the stress of what was happening to you, did you?" Hermione asked, worry creeping into her voice.

"Morgana, no," Jasmine said emphatically. "Why would you think that?"

"Well," Hermione said, relaxing again, "both times were stressful situations. Or rather, just after extremely stressful situations — first when you got back from the graveyard, and then after fighting Malfoy."

Jasmine smiled and said, "OK, so maybe my timing could have been a bit better. But it's something that I've been thinking about for a while. It's taken a bit for me to figure out what's been going on in my head… well, assuming I even have. I'm not even sure how well I understand love, but when I think about you, that's the one word that always comes to mind."

"You've been thinking about it, huh?" Hermione asked with a playful smile as her finger began tracing lines along Jasmine's bare shoulder and collarbone.

Jasmine hummed a positive response as she pulled Hermione a little closer. "This evening was... pretty intense, wasn't it?" she asked.

"I'll say," Hermione agreed. "I thought I had prepared myself for something like that, especially after talking about it; but even after all I've read, it was still so overwhelming. Descriptions in books just don't do it justice."

"What's this I hear?" Jasmine asked in mock horror. "Hermione Granger is disparaging the ability of books to inform and educate? Say it isn't so!"

"Prat!" Hermione chastised, poking Jasmine in the arm.

"And what are you referring to, anyway?" Jasmine asked. "The ritual, or, you know, what came after?"

Hermione turned slightly pink before saying, "Uh, both, I guess."

This elicited a broad grin from the auburn-haired witch. "I'm going to have to start reading more of that Pureheart book with you," Jasmine observed. "I'm clearly missing out on quite a lot."

Hermione hummed a vague response, too distracted by Jasmine's lips and by running her finger along their edges to focus anymore on her words. As much as she enjoyed snogging and... other activities that they were now exploring, sometimes she thought she liked hugging and snuggling close like this even more.

"Did we... I mean..." Jasmine struggled to find the words to explain her concern. "Hermione, did we, you know, 'go all the way' earlier?"

That pulled Hermione out of her meditation on the various qualities of Jasmine's lips. "All the way?" she asked, then she frowned slightly. "Uh... now that you mention it, I'm not really sure what qualifies as 'going all the way' for us."

"It's not exactly obvious," Jasmine agreed.

"There are several things we haven't done," Hermione said, starting to blush a bit again. "Some, uh, important things. We've really only just scratched the surface, so to speak, doing for each other what we normally do for ourselves. I think we definitely haven't gone all the way."

"Oh," Jasmine said neutrally.

"Are you disappointed?" Hermione asked.

"No!" Jasmine said quickly. "Not at all. I was just curious."

"Were you... were you looking to, you know, go further?" Hermione asked with a little trepidation.

"Of course," Jasmine said. When she noticed that Hermione had tensed up and was looking nervous, she quickly added, "Not right now! I mean, eventually, sure. Of course. But I don't feel like we should rush it or anything."

Hermione smiled and relaxed. "Good. I feel the same way. I'm happy with what we did, and I definitely don't regret it, but I don't think I'm quite ready to go any further. Not right now."

"It just felt right," Jasmine confirmed.

Hermione nodded, having returned her attention to Jasmine's lips. Not nearly as oblivious as she sometimes appeared to be, Jasmine was well aware of the nature of her bookworm girlfriend's distraction and decided to take advantage of it. Slowly, so very slowly, she allowed her tongue to poke out between her lips and slide sideways to wet them. It took everything she had not to smile when she saw her prey's pupils dilate.

 _Gotcha!_ the Hunter thought.

There was no need for more discussion that night as they once again lost themselves to the magic and passion of Beltane. More waves of magical energy would soon be released — none nearly as large as the first, but all impressive in their own right, especially when they grew by inducing unexpected climaxes in the hundreds of other couples scattered throughout the ritual circle. All night the forest would be pulsing and humming with magic, love, and light.

* * *

 **Saturday, May 1, 1995, Morning. 8:14 AM.**

Jasmine woke to find herself naked and Hermione, also naked, snuggled up against her, her head on Jasmine's chest and their limbs intertwined. There was a moment of panic before she remembered what had happened the night before. Then there was another moment of panic when she realized she had no idea where exactly she was.

She saw that they were under some sort of dome-shaped structure, about three meters in diameter and two meters high in the center, and she recognized it from one of her few periods of lucidity from the night before. Shifting her body slightly, she could tell that she was lying on grass, even though she had a pillow of some sort under her head.

Otherwise, she was clueless. Strangely, the panic didn't settle in to stay; instead, it was quickly replaced by a sense of calmness and safety. She didn't understand why, but she seemed unable to be afraid, despite not having any idea where the two of them were.

Hermione slowly stirred, then stretched all along against her body, moving in ways and places that caused Jasmine to abandon any interest in where the two of them might be. When she pulled her girlfriend even closer, Hermione shifted her head to look up, then moved her hand up behind Jasmine's head and drew the green-eyed witch into a long, lingering kiss. "Good morning, love," she said when they finally parted.

"Good morning yourself, love," Jasmine responded with a grin. "How'd you sleep?"

"I don't think I've ever slept better," Hermione purred. "You?"

"The same," Jasmine said.

Hermione looked around, then asked, "Any idea where we are?"

"Not a clue," Jasmine answered. "I was wondering that a few minutes ago myself. For some reason, though, I don't find myself particularly bothered by it."

Hermione cocked her head in thought for a moment, then said, "Yeah, neither do I. That's odd."

"It looks like there are flaps or something over there," Jasmine said, gesturing with one waggling foot towards the far side of the structure. "Maybe we should peek out to see?"

Hermione agreed, and after they had put back on their green shifts which they had been using as a pillow, they carefully pulled back one flap to see what was outside.

The flap was pushed back into place much, much faster. "Did you see that?" Hermione asked in a scandalized whisper.

"Kinda hard to miss dozens of couples writhing around naked," Jasmine said in a deadpan voice. She frowned, then opened the flap a little again. "Huh," she said.

"What?" Hermione asked.

Jasmine slowly tilted her head sideways as she stared out the tent flap. "Huh," she said again.

"What?" Hermione asked, sounding more annoyed.

"Well, ever since Fleur told us that veela reproduce with each other, despite them all being female, I've wondered how, well, you know. _How._ "

Hermione grabbed the other flap and pulled it open a little, then slowly tilted her head sideways as well. "Oh," she said, both stunned and curious. "I guess that… well… huh. I did not expect that."

Slowly they closed the flaps again. "Has that been going on all night?" Hermione asked next, still in shock.

"From the sun, I'd say it's around breakfast time or a little later," Jasmine pointed out, "So that's about twelve hours…."

"I don't see how that's possible," Hermione said incredulously.

"Possible or not, it's happening," Jasmine said. "The question is, what do we do? Do you really want to try to leave? Pick our way through all of... that?"

Hermione shook her head fervently. "No, not really. Not unless we have to." She paused for a moment, then added, "If it were dark out, we could do it without being readily noticed."

"Well," Jasmine said with a grin as she lay back down on the grass, putting her back into close contact with the earth and the combined magical energies still flowing through the ritual circle, "we've got about twelve hours or so until the sun goes down. Whatever shall we do until then?"

Hermione grinned back as she joined her girlfriend, also coming back into contact with the flowing magical energies. Neither noticed that they weren't particularly hungry, nor that they didn't seem to need any food or water all day. Once more the forest throbbed and hummed in tune with the oblivious couple leading all of the other couples and groups in a magical symphony of love and life.

* * *

In the sixth-year Gryffindor dormitory, Fred and George Weasley slowly awoke. The first thing they became aware of was that they were hanging upside down from the ceiling. The second thing they noticed was that they were wearing nothing but brightly colored girls' underwear. Finally, it dawned on them that they weren't actually in **their** dormitory.

Judging by the angry looks of all the Gryffindor witches who surrounded them, they guessed that they had somehow wound up in the girls' dorm.

As interesting and fun as sneaking into the girls' dorm might have been, the last thing they remembered was sneaking **out** — specifically, out of the castle and into the Forbidden Forest so they could witness the Beltane celebration. Apparently they'd been caught, though it didn't look much like the sort of punishment that Dumbledore would hand out.

"Uh, good morning?" one twin tried to offer, only to find that his voice was very high pitched. The girls' scowls turned to smirks, but the eyes were no less hostile.

"What are you two trolls doing in here?" Angelina Johnson demanded angrily.

"No idea!" the first twin insisted.

"The last thing I remember, we weren't anywhere near here," the second twin claimed, also in a high-pitched, feminine voice.

Angelina snorted and Alicia Spinnet said, "Likely story. You tripped a ward we set up to capture any boys sneaking into our dorm."

"Why would you do that?" the second twin asked, looking very confused.

"Don't the stairs protect you?" the first pointed out.

"They should," Angelina admitted, "but we were warned that some wizards may have found a way around the charms and were given some extra protections to try. Clearly our mysterious benefactor was right, and it's a good thing we believed them."

"So," the second twin said slowly, "you got an anonymous warning plus advice on how to handle it."

"Then we just happened to stumble into your trap?" the first twin finished.

"Forget the innocent act," Alicia said. "We know the two of you far too well to fall for it."

"I don't suppose you'd let us down?" the first twin tried gamely.

"Oh, sure!" Angelina said in a tone that almost sounded helpful. With a swish of her wand, the boys were released from the spell that had been keeping them stuck to the ceiling, causing them to drop heavily to the bare stone floor. "Oops," she said, "did I forget to cast the cushioning charm first?"

Both twins groaned in pain as they slowly stood up, desperately trying to shake some feeling back into their feet. "We'll just be on our way, then," the second twin said as they edged around the angry witches and towards the door. When they opened it, however, they were confronted by Professor McGonagall, her lips thinned to the point of nonexistence as she glared at them.

"Never in all my years!" she hissed. "Your penchant for pranking is well known, but I would never have believed that you'd go so far as to invade the sanctity and privacy of the witches' dormitory!" Reaching out, she grabbed each of them by an ear and dragged them down the stairs then through the common room. All the Gryffindors hooted and hollered as she continued to berate them, "Just wait until I write your mother about this!"

In a deeply shadowed corner of the common room, two very creative house elves snickered.

* * *

 **Saturday, May 1, 1995, Night. 9:43 PM.**

Dressed once again in their decidedly crumpled shifts, Jasmine and Hermione gingerly stepped through the couples scattered around the ritual circle. Some were resting, most were quite active, and all were wearing nothing more than huge smiles. Previously, the two Gryffindor witches had only imagined what happened in the ritual circle after they had left it on Eostre; now, though, they could see it with their own eyes — and they knew that they were involved as well, even if someone had taken enough pity on them to toss a magically expanded dome over them to give them some privacy.

It wasn't just the fact that they had participated personally, either. They knew from their conversation with Adrienne last time that their magic — magic they'd sacrificed to the ritual and which had been sent back out into the gathering and the wider forest — had helped fuel what everyone else had been doing. In a sense, a bit of them had been and still was a part of what was going on around them.

It was a relatively short journey, but a difficult one because they tried to look just closely enough to avoid stepping on people, yet not enough to recognize anyone. Jasmine was sure she was going to have nightmares about looking down at her feet and suddenly seeing the face of Fleur or Gabrielle while they were right in the middle of... well, in the middle of something she really didn't want to see either of them doing.

Finally, after what seemed like hours, they made it to the edge of the circle and could start heading directly for the carriages; there they would be able to pick up their robes and broom and fly back up to the castle. As they walked, the growing darkness prevented them from seeing just how much improved the forest already was, even beyond the previous evening.

They'd only gone a few dozen meters when a large shape stepped out of the shadows and blocked their way. Suddenly Jasmine found herself confronted by Bane, the centaur who had said some very unpleasant things about her when she had encountered him and other centaurs in the forest during her first year. She steeled herself as he approached them, but then he surprised her by giving her a very small bow — not much more than a nod of his head, really, but it was a significant gesture for a centaur to extend to a witch.

"Greetings, young witches," Bane said.

"Uh, yeah, uh," Jasmine stammered, "good evening to you, too. Nice night for a walk?"

Bane's rear hooves kicked a little as he cocked his head, then he looked up into the night sky and said, "Venus is bright tonight."

"Oh?" Jasmine responded intelligently.

"Yes," Bane said, nodding. "Very bright. Mars is not so bright now. It has dimmed, though only a little."

"Is... that a good thing?" Jasmine asked.

Bane looked down at them gravely. "It is neither good nor bad, it simply is. Yet it is also unusual. Venus and Mars are both in ascendance, and we cannot remember when that last occurred."

"What does that mean, exactly?" Hermione asked, for some reason expecting a centaur to be clear.

"What that means has yet to be determined," Bane explained. "The future is written in the heavens, but someone has been making changes, and we are no longer sure what will be."

"I thought that centaurs were masters of reading the stars," Hermione said.

Bane nodded, "Indeed we are, but not even we are omniscient. Much remains hidden from us, and much we have yet to learn. But we are not ungrateful, and we owe you both a debt which cannot be repaid."

"Debt?" Jasmine asked.

"It is time you got back to your school, young witches," Bane said. "Your headmaster will be looking for you soon, I think."

Hermione squeaked in distress and started dragging Jasmine off. Had either of them looked back, they might have noticed a second centaur stepping out of the shadows next to Bane.

"You were awfully chatty with them, Bane."

Bane shrugged. "I was hoping to give them some encouragement and point them in the right direction, Magorian."

The older centaur nodded and said, "I don't dispute the need, I just find it odd that **you** would be the one to do it."

"I was harsh with the red-maned one three years ago," Bane explained, "and I wanted to purge myself of that."

"Very good," Magorian responded. "Have you heard the news from our scouts that were sent to the north?"

"No, did they find anything?" Bane asked.

Magorian grinned. "The acromantula nest is no more. The entire area has been completely cleared — not even the trees remain. It's been reduced to fresh, virgin earth waiting to be replanted."

Bane grinned back. "I was right, we do owe them more than we can repay."

Magorian nodded. "But we will try. We must try."

* * *

 **Saturday, May 1, 1995, Late Night.**

It was after ten when Jasmine and Hermione finally slipped back through the open window and into their dorm room. They both entered Jasmine's bed without even thinking about it, and there they found a note from Professor McGonagall. It was polite, but worded in such a way that it still communicated her annoyance that they had been gone for so long.

She insisted that they send word via house elf when they returned, no matter how late, and informed them that she had covered for them by telling others they were serving detention with her for having broken curfew the week before. A two day detention. That would be continuing on Sunday afternoon.

A quick call to Dobby let them send the requested message, and then it was time for sleep. Neither had ever engaged in so much vigorous physical activity for such a long period of time, and it was catching up to them fast.

Sighing, both witches shed their clothes and slipped together under the covers without bothering with pyjamas. Between the long hours of physical activity and the short, intense period of stress as they tried to return to the castle without being seen, they were completely exhausted. It was only a matter of minutes before they fell asleep, giving themselves over to dreams of running through an enchanted forest, clad in nothing but flowers, dancing with fairies and chasing unicorns.


	57. Don't Stop Believin'

**A/N:** Just so there aren't any misunderstandings, what you have seen so far is about as explicit in terms of violence and sexual content as you will find in this story. The rating was changed to "M" in advance of the graveyard scene just in case someone complained that it went too far for a lower rating. It was a "better safe than sorry" decision, even though a higher rating will likely reduce the number of potential readers down the road.

 **Recommendation** : This chapter's recommended fic is "This Is the Best Thing" by avidbeader. After Ron is attacked and put in the hospital, Harry and Hermione finally realize some things about themselves and each other. H/Hr.

* * *

 **Chapter 57 - Don't Stop Believin'**

 **Monday, May 3, 1995, Early Morning.**

Hermione bit her bottom lip in contemplation as she stared at the parchment in front of her. She had stumbled across a mystery, and she wanted to solve it because she absolutely hated unanswered questions. The problem was, she had a million other things to do as well, and she wasn't sure how important this really was, especially compared to some of the other issues facing her and Jasmine.

Then again, this did appear to affect the two of them directly — that was why she had decided to sacrifice some sleep that morning to work on the problem. Her brow furrowing, she once more went down the list of incidents that she was only now beginning to see might be related.

Bonding with house elves. Giving and accepting magical oaths. Giving and accepting promise rings.

And then there was _something_ that happened to them during Beltane.

In each case, there had been a magical glow that affected those involved. But what did the glow mean, and what did they all have in common? If she could figure out what the first three had in common, perhaps she could figure out what it was that happened to them during Beltane when she saw the bright green, blue and white glowing lights. Well, she **thought** she had seen them. She had been otherwise occupied at the time and couldn't be entirely sure what she saw, but there had definitely been a glow of some sort.

Was it that they were all oaths? Her words when she bonded Winky to her hadn't exactly been an oath, but she supposed it was plausible that they might be treated that way by magic. However, she definitely hadn't been saying anything while she and Jasmine were... well, that wasn't entirely true. She had said a few words, some rather incoherent in fact, but definitely none that could be construed as an oath. Well, not **that** kind of oath.

Hermione suddenly felt warm at the memory of what Jasmine had been doing to her to pull that kind of language out of her, then smiled as she wondered if Jasmine would mind being woken up a bit early.

 _Well_ , she thought, _there's only one way to find out…._

* * *

 **Monday, May 3, 1995, Afternoon.**

"Mother?" Sirius asked as he walked into the hall. He'd finally given in and decided to address her as if she were in fact his mother. He had tried to resist and keep thinking of her as just a portrait, but it didn't work. The mannerisms and attitudes of the portrait were simply too true to life, and it was too easy for him to fall into old habits. He still suspected that it was a sign of growing insanity on his part, but he figured that he'd be better off if he just relaxed and accepted it.

"Yes?" she asked tiredly.

"I've got the room as repaired as I can," he said. It had taken him hours both yesterday and today to fix the heavy damage caused by the explosion. Had it been a normal explosion it probably would have been relatively simple, but this blast had left a lot of dark magical residue that had to be dealt with. The fact that he was using an old family wand instead of one matched to him didn't help his efforts.

"Some of it is beyond me, though," he continued. "I don't know if Kreacher can do anything, but if he can't then we'll have to bring in specialists in magical construction to deal with it."

"And of course we can't do that because of your fugitive status," Walburga said with a sigh. "Is there any danger to the house itself?"

"No, it doesn't look like it," Sirius answered. "I shored up the magical protections, and they all look fine. At least, they look fine to me — I'm not an expert."

Walburga nodded. "Speaking of Kreacher," she said slowly, "I finally got him to talk about why he was so upset after the explosion." Sirius raised an eyebrow in curiosity. He had never seen an elf that upset, but even more surprising was that he had been resisting answering answer his mother's questions. That elf had always been absolutely dedicated to her, and that dedication continued even after her death, though it was focused on her portrait for some reason.

"Apparently," she explained, "your brother Regulus stole something from the Dark Lord — something he prized greatly. Before he died, Regulus commanded Kreacher to destroy it, but he was never able to do so. Kreacher believes that the explosion was his fault, but I eventually got him calmed down.

"Regulus?" Sirius asked hoarsely. "I thought... I thought he died as a Death Eater."

"No, he seems to have betrayed the Dark Lord at the end," his mother said, an oddly tentative note in her voice. In life, she'd been an ardent supporter of any and all dark lords, and betrayal of any sort would have been a blight on the family honor; now, though, she seemed less certain about it. "Kreacher said it was a locket with an 'S' on it. I suspect that it was something that originally belonged to Salazar Slytherin, but Kreacher was never able to open it, and it was impervious to everything he did to it."

Sirius shook his head in disbelief. "I wish Regulus had come to me. I'd have helped him. If only he had trusted me, believed in me more. Maybe I could have... maybe he wouldn't…."

Walburga smiled kindly at her least-favorite son. "I know, Sirius. I know. We all made a lot of mistakes back then, it seems, but we need to focus on the present. Were you able to find any fragments of the object that exploded?"

"Yes," Sirius said slowly, reaching into his pocket and pulling out some shards of metal. Despite being blackened and twisted, there were still hints of the gold they were made of. "These were the most damaged things I could find, and I think they must have been at the center of the blast. On top of that, I saw them shuddering and fizzling early this morning, which was strange because they weren't doing it yesterday."

"I want you to cast _Menue Aposunergēsis Agma Thuos Baskanos_ on them," she commanded sharply.

Sirius looked at her quizzically, not understanding why she'd want such a thing.

"Just humor me."

He shrugged and asked her to repeat the spell for him, since he had little experience with Greek incantations. After a couple of attempts, he was able to cast the spell on the shards sitting in his hand. He gaped as all of them exhibited a slight, fluctuating green glow. "Wha—?" he tried to ask, but Walburga interrupted him.

"Seal them in a silk bag, then put it in a lead box," she commanded. "Say nothing of this to any of the other portraits. Or anyone at all, for that matter."

"What is going on?" Sirius asked. "What does this mean?"

Walburga shook her head and said, "Deal with those things first. I'll explain everything to you, but please, just take care of them and let me think for a while."

Sirius wasn't sure, but couldn't remember his mother saying "please" before. Ever. To anyone. That alone told him that there was something very wrong with the situation, and he decided that it would be best to go along with her, at least for now.

* * *

Once she was alone, Walburga Black sat heavily in the chair that had been provided for her in the painting. She may not have done a very good job at creating a horcrux for herself, but she had done her homework and learned all she could about them first. Her suspicions had been raised by Kreacher's description of how the locket behaved — and the very fact that a locket could "behave" in any way at all was a clue in itself.

The spell Sirius cast had confirmed it, though. The Dark Lord had created a horcrux. No wonder he had returned despite everyone thinking that he'd been killed back in 1981.

 _Well_ , she thought, _his horcrux has been destroyed, though I'd love to know how. The fact that they are hard to destroy was part of what drew me to them in the first place. There shouldn't have been anything in that room that would have been a threat to it, and it sat there for years without a problem... at least, it did until recently. We really need to find out what happened, but Sirius just doesn't know enough to do a thorough investigation._

She was glad, at least, that without his horcrux the Dark Lord would be truly mortal once again, thus making it possible for someone to kill him. _Once that's done, Sirius' goddaughter will be safer_ , she hoped. _She's already had to deal with so much, having to face the Dark Lord four times already... wait, why has she faced him so many times?_

Walburga stopped as she tried to remember everything she'd been told about her experiences at Hogwarts. _Jasmine Dorea survived him for the first time in 1981, and she was just confronted by him again when he gained a new body. In between was her first year when the Dark Lord was trying to come back through the Philosopher's Stone, then in her second year when there was some sort of book…._

The portrait's face paled as she started to run through the implications of that story. "Sirius!" she screamed, needing to get all of the details so she could be sure of what she suspected. _And how do I explain to him what I fear without also telling him why I know so much about this subject?_

* * *

 **Tuesday, May 4, 1995, Morning.**

Albus Dumbledore picked at his eggs as he reflected on the visit of the Europeans from the continent. He had spent almost all day Friday, Saturday, and Sunday at the Ministry talking to representatives of both the French magical government and the veela enclaves. Three solid days of talking, and always lasting until late in the night. Talking... and not much else. Dumbledore had long grown accustomed to politicians who seemed to talk for no other reason than that they liked to hear their own voices — politicians who talked and talked but never said or accomplished much.

The French, however, had taken that to a whole new level, and that hadn't been his previous experience with them. He couldn't understand why they had invested so much time and effort into coming here and talking for days on end, then not appearing to care very much that nothing had been decided on. If he didn't know better, he'd think that they had never intended to accomplish anything. _But what would the purpose of that be?_ he wondered. _To simply test our resolve? To learn how we'd react?_

It didn't make any sense. He suspected that he might be missing something, some key piece of information, but he couldn't imagine what it might be.

 _Fortunately we didn't have many problems with students trying to sneak out of the castle_ , he reflected. _Increased patrols kept students in the dorms, leaving only the problem of a few Ravenclaws trying to use their astronomy telescopes to see what was going on, which the prefects quickly put a stop to. The only real problem was the Weasley twins' unexpected foray into the witches' dorm, and I still haven't figured out how they managed that! I don't envy Minerva's meeting with them and Molly..._

He picked at his breakfast a bit more while letting his gaze wander across the Great Hall. He stopped when he reached Jasmine Potter, noticing that she and Hermione were reading a letter which the muggleborn witch had received that morning. Almost reflexively, his eyes shifted back over to the Slytherin table, where Draco Malfoy and his friends ate quietly. Ever since he had been released from the hospital wing, he'd been incredibly subdued, especially for him.

 _I have to admit, it's nice to not have to listen to his insults and verbal attacks on others_ , Dumbledore thought reluctantly. _It always seemed like such a good idea, giving him so much liberty. It reminded Miss Potter about the problems in our society, forced her to develop a thicker skin, and demonstrated to young Mr. Malfoy that there was an alternative path to the one his father wanted him to follow — a path characterized by forgiveness and tolerance._

Dumbledore sighed with regret. The meeting about Miss Potter's punishment, followed up with a private discussion with Mr. Malfoy, had revealed to him that he'd been wrong on pretty much every point. _It gave Miss Potter reasons to despise our magical community, caused her to distrust me and my methods, and told Mr. Malfoy that the alternatives to his father were weak and unworthy of respect._

No longer feeling very hungry, Dumbledore set down his silverware and slowly made his way out of the Great Hall, thinking about the changes he'd have to make to his plans. He still believed that his long-term plans were the right way to deal with Tom and other problems in society, but that didn't mean it wasn't possible to make a few improvements in the details.

* * *

"What do you suppose he wants?" Jasmine asked as they hurried to the seventh floor. They'd have to be fast if they wanted to read the message and still get to History of Magic class on time. Not that Binns would notice if they were late or even skived entirely, but Hermione wouldn't allow it.

"I don't know," Hermione answered, "but this is the first time he's ever written 'urgent' on his message, so we'd better find out."

Once they were in the Room of Requirement, Hermione tapped the piece of parchment with her wand and recited, "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good," eliciting a small sort of amusement from Jasmine, given how rare it was that Hermione ever deliberately set out to do mischief.

As surprised as they were by the declared urgency of the note, they were even more confused by the contents of the full message. Sirius wanted them to explain events of the second year in as much detail as possible, with a special focus on everything they knew about the diary: where it came from, what it did, how people reacted around it, etc.

"What do you suppose this is all about?" Hermione wondered.

"Dunno," Jasmine said with a frown, "but he's asking for a lot. You, me, and Ginny will all have to contribute in order to give him as much as he seems to need."

"Ginny won't like reliving all of that," Hermione pointed out.

Jasmine grimaced. "I know — I'm not exactly looking forward to it myself. But he says it could be critical."

"Why don't we ask Neville to do it with her?" Hermione suggested. "I think she's still a little sweet on him, even if she's dating Dean. She might find it easier to open up to him."

Jasmine nodded. "Good idea. I'll get started on my part during History of Magic, then during break you can read it over and add in your own observations. If we can get Ginny's this evening, we can respond to Sirius by tomorrow morning."

Hermione appeared a bit put out as she burned the note, annoyed that her girlfriend was so ready to ignore their History of Magic lecture, but she had to admit that Jasmine's plan would see them finished with the project as quickly as possible.

* * *

Hidden in the shadows of a seventh-floor alcove, two identical Gryffindor wizards gave each other a significant look. The two witches they'd been investigating had apparently found a room that even they had never discovered! They hurried over to where they had been sure they'd seen a door, but no matter what they did, they couldn't find one, and none of their detection spells revealed a thing.

"Curiouser and curiouser," one twin said to his brother.

"Indeed," the second twin agreed. "There is clearly far more going on than we realized."

"We'll simply need to step up our surveillance," the first twin responded, not realizing that they had just effectively admitted to not having learned their lesson, thus dooming them to greater and more detailed instruction on the art of creativity.

* * *

 **Saturday, May 8, 1995, Afternoon.**

Jasmine and Hermione burst through the surface of the pool, laughing and smiling. "Wow," Hermione said, "I never would have imagined that using gillyweed would be so much fun. We should have done this sooner!"

"I never imagined that kissing underwater while using gillyweed would be so much fun," Jasmine responded with a grin.

"It's definitely something we'll have to explore more in the future," Hermione agreed. "For science, of course."

"Of course!" Jasmine said as she kicked over to the shallow end of the pool where she could stand and leaned back against the side. Hermione followed and turned around so she could lean back against Jasmine, reveling in the embrace. For her part, Jasmine enjoyed taking advantage of the fact that Hermione's hair was gathered up under her swimming cap, giving the green-eyed witch access to a surprisingly long and graceful neck to nuzzle and nip at.

"Jasmine, you haven't heard back from the DMLE yet, have you?" Hermione asked.

Jasmine shook her head. "Madam Bones said it might be a while, so I haven't given it a lot of thought. It's not something I like to dwell on, frankly.

"I understand," Hermione said, "but it has been over a month."

Silence fell between them until Jasmine brought up a topic that she had been meaning to discuss but could never find the right time. This almost certainly wasn't the right time either, but she couldn't keep putting it off anymore.

"Hermione, have you thought about what you'll say to your parents about us?" Jasmine asked.

"I really don't know," Hermione said sadly. "You know we aren't close, so it's hard for me to predict how they'd react. I've never heard them comment positively or negatively when stories about gays and lesbians come up in the news. I... I just have no idea."

"They seem pretty awesome to me," Jasmine said, causing Hermione to give a slightly embarrassed smile, "so maybe they'll accept us, even if it takes a bit of time. Both of us getting closer to them would help."

"Closer?" Hermione asked with a bit of a squeak. "I... I don't know if we can still do that."

Jasmine shook her head. "Hermione, your parents are great, especially your mum. That was made obvious to me after the incredibly thoughtful gift they sent me for Christmas and then sending those books you asked for. Twice, even! A person who doesn't care about you wouldn't be so helpful to a friend of yours that they don't really know. Every time you've owled them for help, they've come through, haven't they?"

Hermione paused and looked thoughtful for a moment before answering, "Yes, they have."

"They've come through incredibly, I'd say," Jasmine said. "And those are all cases where they knew exactly what you needed because you told them."

"So maybe the rest of the time, they don't know, and that's why they always seem so distant to me?" Hermione said to continue the thought.

"Maybe," Jasmine said. "I mean, if they don't know what to do — whether because of how distant you've all grown, because you're a witch, or something else — then maybe they're just kinda frozen, not wanting to act for fear of making a mistake."

"But they practically leap to help when they're sure of what I need," Hermione said.

"So maybe the distance between you isn't as great as you think?" Jasmine suggested, stroking the back of Hermione's hand. "Or, at the very least, won't be as hard to bridge?"

"You're right," Hermione said as she nodded. "I'll have to think about what I can do."

"Good," Jasmine said softly. "I can't remember my parents and grew up always wishing that I had parents who love me. I'm pretty sure yours do, even if they seem to have trouble showing it, so I'd hate to see you give up on them when you don't have to. Try to trust and believe in them, and maybe they'll surprise you."

Hermione turned around in Jasmine's arms and looked deep into her green eyes. Only just then did she start to understand how much having parents, even surrogate ones, would mean to her girlfriend. The Dursleys were awful and didn't sound like they were fit to raise a hamster. The Weasleys were nice, but Molly was way too overbearing. But her own parents... **her** parents could potentially fill that hole in Jasmine's life, just a little.

For that to happen, though, Hermione would have to reconnect with them herself, then help them get to know how wonderful Jasmine was. And somehow, eventually, she'd have to tell them about their relationship. It wasn't much of a plan yet, but it was a start. Jasmine had just helped her realize that her relationship with her parents might be more salvageable than she thought; what was more, she'd been given more of a reason to salvage it than she ever thought she'd have.

Hermione wanted to have her parents back. Even more, she wanted to give Jasmine a chance to feel what it was like to have real, loving parents herself.

* * *

 **Monday, May 10, 1995, Morning.**

Already on his second cup of chojo that morning, Earchewer stared down in concentration at the latest urgent intelligence report from Hogwarts. It looked as though there were two separate items, but he doubted that they were all that separate. First there had been a massive delegation of European witches and veela — both mostly French — that camped on the Hogwarts grounds. They had supposedly been in the country to talk to the Ministry about the events of the second task, but according to this report their numbers had been far, far too high for any simple diplomatic delegation.

And according to his source in the Ministry, the few that actually had met with British officials did not seem to be overly concerned with accomplishing much. _That settles it_ , Earchewer concluded, _they had ulterior motives for being in Britain — motives that were probably related to Hogwarts in some fashion._

They had held what appeared to have been an enormous Beltane celebration in the Forbidden Forest — a celebration which the centaurs had not only welcomed, but had personally protected. The goblin's intelligence source couldn't get close enough to report on any details, but there had been a massive eruption of fire from the forest, then later, an even more massive surge of magical energy. All through the night and for two days afterwards, smaller but still substantial surges of magical energy continue to flow out from the forest, their cause unknown.

 _Was there something important about that forest which the French had been looking for? Something they could use in a ritual? Was it even truly a Beltane celebration? Could it have been a weapon that they were looking for... and found? And how did they get the centaurs to agree to help them, whatever they were doing?_ Unfortunately, there were no answers to these questions.

At least, no obvious answers, unless they were contained in the second bit of information: the forest itself was changing. It seemed to be improving substantially, in fact, with new growth pushing back against old, dark, and dying elements. It had already started before Beltane, so it clearly wasn't directly caused by the celebration, but the process certainly appeared to have sped up radically since then.

The only other thing that connected the French, veela, and Hogwarts were those two English witches that he'd been getting regular reports about... though it hardly seemed likely that they would have had anything to do with whatever happened in the forest.

The audit for the one witch was complete, but they hadn't figured out a way to communicate with her without risking alerting the wrong people — and this was something they absolutely didn't want to take any chances on, even if it meant delaying communication for a while. _Is it simply a coincidence that a large number of veela show up at Hogwarts now?_ he asked himself. _There was no evidence of the two witches meeting them, but that doesn't mean anything. No, it's probably not a coincidence — I'll have to forward all of this on to the Gatekeeper. I also need to push my source to get more information on events like this. We're digging blind here!_

Once the communications packet had been prepared, Earchewer turned to the next high-priority item: bursts of dark magic being detected down around some of the older high-security vaults — probably the Lestrange vault, but they couldn't be sure just yet. Three months earlier, Nailtooth had devised a plan to install dark magic detectors around the area, but the proposal required removing the guard dragon. It was a drastic step, but Vault Master Ripsaw had endorsed it as their best chance for tracking down the source of the dark magic emissions.

Earchewer leaned back in his chair to think about that. Removing a guard dragon was no easy task, and not one to be done lightly, since it created a rather large hole in their security. It was even worse in this case because the dragon in question was especially old. As a result, the plan had been put on hold to see if the problem kept occurring — and it had, which meant that decision about whether to move forward was now his. Unfortunately, there was no one for him to pass the problem along to.

* * *

 **Friday, May 14, 1995. Evening.**

The Room of Requirement was packed. A significant percentage of the witches in the school were here, plus a few wizards. Jasmine, Hermione, Neville, and Ginny had been reluctant to let any hint about the existence of the room get out, but there was simply no other place to meet in secret — not with so many students. Fortunately, Hermione had come up with the idea of requiring everyone to sign a charmed parchment that prevented them from discussing anything they learned during the meeting that night. It wasn't foolproof security, but it was better than nothing.

Once it was clear that everyone who was coming was already there, Daphne stood on a platform to address the gathering. Jasmine watched from the side. She had agreed to help — to lend her name and support — but not to lead. Despite the exhortations of the study group, she didn't believe that she was a leader, and she didn't want to be responsible for what might happen to people if things went wrong, so this had been their compromise.

Finally it was Jasmine's turn to speak. She may have been able to avoid being made a leader, but she couldn't avoid talking to people. "Hi," she began a bit awkwardly. "You all know my name, but few of you actually know me very well. That will hopefully change over the coming months as we all work together, helping each other, but right now I need to talk to you about a much bigger issue." She took a calming breath, then continued, "You all know by now what happened to me last month — my kidnapping, torture, and the attempt to kill me. What you need to know is that it wasn't just about me. I was the first, but I won't be the last. Many more will be targeted, much like I was. You may be next."

Jasmine looked around at the horrified faces staring back at her. "I'm sorry to have to tell you that, but it's true. There is a group of dark wizards out there right now who would like nothing more than to rape, torture, and kill those they consider beneath them. Muggleborn will be their first and favorite targets, but so-called 'blood traitors,' foreigners, anyone who stands in their way, and eventually even witches in general will be targeted in one way or another." She paused to let this sink in a bit. "The Ministry is aware of this, but the Ministry didn't prove itself to be very effective the last time there was a gang of dark wizards terrorizing Britain, and we shouldn't assume that they magically became competent over the past decade and a half."

There were actually a few chuckles at that, and she began to relax a little as she warmed to her subject. "This means that you have to be ready, willing, and able to protect yourselves and your families. It means that you will have to take responsibility for your lives, despite the fact that you're still students. It sucks, I know — I know because I've been fighting for my life and the lives of those I care about almost since I arrived at Hogwarts. I can't protect you from it, but I can help you protect yourselves. Well, me and my friends up here can." Jasmine gestured to members of the study group who were all standing up front. She thought she caught Hermione mouthing "my friends and I!"

"This is just the first meeting, so not much will be accomplished," Jasmine continued. "However, before the term ends, we hope to do several things. You should all learn a few defensive and offensive spells — nothing fancy, just enough for basic protection. Next year we'll be teaching more advanced stuff, but in the time remaining we're focusing on what's absolutely necessary. You'll learn about how gangs of dark wizards have operated in the past so you can watch for signs of them. You'll learn a few things you can do to protect your homes and families. You'll learn about some basic first aid potions that you'll be able to brew at home — yes, the restrictions on underage magic don't apply to potions! And finally you'll be organized into mutual support groups based on who lives closest to who. That way you'll know where you can go for help if something happens."

Jasmine paused again, meeting the gazes of those around her. Many were still scared, but even more were starting to look determined, which was what she was hoping to see. "I won't lie to you: this won't be easy. People will get hurt. But if you work hard, then hopefully the ones who get hurt are the dark wizards who want to do awful things to you. I did it, and I keep surviving because of the help of my friends. You can do it too, and when you win it will be because of the witch or wizard standing next to you. Our group is about witches helping witches — helping each other to be better and to achieve our goals. Sometimes, it may be about helping each other to survive. That's why I'm here, at least."

It started with Hermione and Daphne, but the clapping and cheering quickly spread throughout the entire assembled group. Jasmine smiled in appreciation and hoped that she had been successful in giving them a symbol to believe in, because they'd need that belief in order to weather the coming storm.

* * *

In a nearby alcove, there was absolutely no one spying in an attempt to learn more about the Room of Requirement. There had been early on, but they had quickly been discovered and were now mercifully unconscious in the hospital wing. Madam Pomfrey had been drawn out of her office by banging and screaming outside the main doors, and upon investigation, she found the Weasley twins in a panic because someone had switched their faces and their buttcheeks.

Moreover, according to the twins, their faces had been switched to the **other** twin's bum. She had no idea how they could tell, and in all honesty she didn't really **want** to know. Eventually she was forced to stun them because they were so upset that they were interfering with her attempts to treat them. Normally she'd be able to fix a badly cast switching spell in a trice, but something about their situation was resisting all of her efforts to fix it, and she was coming to the conclusion that she might have to contact St. Mungo's for expert advice.

First, though, she decided that she ought to let Minerva know, since it involved two of her most troublesome lions.

* * *

 **Friday, May 14, 1995. Night.**

Lord Voldemort looked over the group of wizards who had come to be marked as his Death Eaters and scowled. _Pathetic_ , he thought to himself as he tapped his fingers on the arm of his throne. _All purebloods, but none of them are worth anything._ It was, however, the best he could do right now. It would take a while before he could once again make his message appeal to the richer, more sophisticated purebloods, but he would get there... though the message might need to be delivered with a few threats and the occasional curse, just to be sure.

In the meantime, the best he'd be able to expect to rally to his cause were poor purebloods — wizards, mostly, who felt they were entitled to better jobs, better houses, better wives, and more gold, yet who kept being surpassed by everyone else. Because of the restrictive nature of their society's laws, it was rare that they were ever actually surpassed by mudbloods, half-bloods, foreigners, or witches, but they only needed to see it happen once or twice in order to conclude that it **always** happened, thus fixing their hatred on what Voldemort found to be appropriate targets.

It was the same in the early days of his first rise to power, too. In every society there were always plenty of poor, underachieving members of the dominant class who resented the success of others and who felt they were entitled to more. Muggles had them too, and they were a ready source of troops for anyone who could harness their resentments, focus them on politically vulnerable targets, and then unleash them in the service of whatever nonsensical ideology was convenient.

Voldemort didn't care about these wizards. He had no interest in their hopes, their dreams, or their fears. All he cared about was the fact that they had managed to work themselves into a frothing hatred against minorities that had never harmed them in any way. Even better, they were now willing to be used by him to attack his enemies simply because he convinced them that his enemies and those minorities were the same thing. And, once they were marked, they'd do whatever he demanded — they wouldn't have much choice.

Now Voldemort smiled. _They may be pathetic, but soon they will be Ours, and We will use them to start rebuilding Our power. There still isn't any clue about what caused us to first lose consciousness at the beginning of the month, not to mention why Our magic feels weak. Until We can figure out what happened, We must stay in the shadows and recruit more servants. In the meantime, though, We will enjoy some entertainment._

"You all know why you are here," Voldemort announced as he rose from his throne and stepped down to face his newest recruits. "It's time for you to take the Mark and officially become Death Eaters!" This was greeted by a cheer from the assembled crowd. "Receiving the Mark does not come free, however. Only true believers… only the most committed… only those who prove themselves **worthy** can be Marked."

He stopped to look at each of them in turn. "Are you committed? Do you believe? Do you think you have what it takes to be a Death Eater?" Once again, this was greeted with cheers, though louder this time. "We are purebloods. We do not consider muggles to be our equals. We consider them to be little more than animals. Toys. Playthings." He paused again as he looked at them all. "We use the torture curse to teach them their place. We use them for our pleasure because they are lucky that we would even deign to touch them. We kill them because the world becomes a better place when we have cleansed their filth away."

Voldemort walked back up the steps and turned back around, standing in front of his throne. "Do you think you have what it takes?" Several of the recruits cried out in agreement. "What?" he asked menacingly. "We asked if you have what it takes!" Now all of them cried out loudly, shouting "Yes!"

He glanced around at his current Death Eaters, including some inner circle members, standing masked along the walls of the room. They would take care of any of the new recruits who proved to be too squeamish to do what needed to be done. Well, except for Wormtail, who sat pitifully in the corner. For some reason, he had expected to be rewarded more than he had been, despite having done such a miserable job at taking care of Voldemort's little homunculus body.

"We shall see," he said to them, and with a wave of his wand, he cancelled a disillusionment charm that had been active behind them. When they turned around, they saw a group of a dozen crying muggles, bloodied and with their clothing half torn off.

All were girls in their mid-teens.

And all had dark red hair.

"Demonstrate for Us that you have what it takes," Voldemort said as he sat back on his throne. He smiled rapturously once the screaming started.

* * *

Jasmine Potter thrashed back and forth, caught up in the throes of a nightmare, something that hadn't happened in many months because her new relationship with Hermione had effectively blocked Voldemort's emotions from affecting her. Now, though, Voldemort's emotions were so strong — and so directly related to her — that some were filtering through.

She was soon joined by Hermione, who always seemed to be aware of Jasmine's state at night and so had always been quick to offer comfort when she had a nightmare. Tonight that comfort was needed more than ever, and it took an unusually long time for her to soothe the girl, who kept sobbing and whimpering in her sleep.

Eventually she did quiet down, and Hermione remained by her side until morning, though Jasmine wouldn't be able to tell her anything because she wouldn't remember any details from the nightmare.

She had no idea how fortunate she was.

* * *

 **Saturday, May 15, 1995. Afternoon.**

Sirius stared disbelievingly at the portrait of his mother. He knew from her reaction to whatever had caused the explosion in the sitting room that she had been hiding something, and her demand to learn everything possible about what had happened during Jasmine's second year was strange even for her. But this went far beyond anything he could have imagined.

"Are you… are you absolutely certain?" he asked as he tried to wrap his mind around the very concept of splitting one's soul.

"As sure as I can be, given how little direct evidence we have," Walburga answered. "We'd need to actually have one for absolute certainty, and even then that wouldn't tell us if there were more than one out there. However…" she trailed off, shrugging helplessly.

"Yeah," Sirius said hoarsely, "both the locket and the diary fit the descriptions from that book." Sirius could have gone and read the book himself — it was still kept in a sealed area of the library — but he didn't even want to touch it. He'd have destroyed the book if he didn't suspect that knowledge of such evil magic might be necessary to oppose it when encountered, but the thought of it being in the house for any reason still made him ill.

Though the fact that his mother knew it well enough to recite it from memory bothered him even more.

"And if he made two…" she said.

"He might have made more," Sirius finished. "But not necessarily — three soul pieces is an arithmantically sound number."

"Very true," Walburga conceded, "but seven is stronger. The only way to find out is to search for more and see what comes up. Or, I suppose you could try to kill the Dark Lord again and wait and see if he comes back…."

Sirius shook his head. "I think it would be safer to try the first, at least for now."

"Agreed," Walburga said. "So we need to learn all we can about his life and background. That's the first place to look for clues, I think."

"I wonder if anyone else knows and might have worked on this," Sirius thought aloud.

"Well, Regulus found out, even if he didn't know all the details," Walburga said, "so it's possible. Who else might have been working against the Dark Lord? Dumbledore, perhaps?"

Sirius furrowed his brow and nodded. "Yes, if anyone has any ideas, he's a good bet. Means we'll have to work with him more closely, too."

"Check with Phineas. See if he remembers Dumbledore ever mentioning anything," Walburga said. "No, wait — bring Phineas here. We should inquire closely about how Dumbledore behaved around the diary. Jasmine Dorea said she left it with him, right? Then his behavior alone might provide clues about his knowledge."

Sirius immediately went after Phineas' portrait, making a mental note to start pressuring that magical supplier to get all the frames he needed for the warded portrait room he had prepared — then he wouldn't have to run around like this. It was only when he reached Phineas' portrait that he remembered that Kreacher could have easily done it, and that his mother had probably sent him off like that just to annoy him.

* * *

 **Sunday, May 16, 1995. Morning.**

No one in the goblin delegation to the veela was happy, and Lufestre Gydenna least of all. She scowled as she sat in the outer reception area, waiting to be admitted to see the Theledrion. She had originally arrived at the beginning of the month, only to be informed that the council wasn't even present and that she'd have to wait several days. _**Ha!**_ she thought, _As if I'd believe such an obvious lie. One or two members of the Theledrion might be travelling at any given time, I'm sure, but the entire ruling council would_ _ **never**_ _leave, no more than the Bet Bel would. They were stalling me for some reason, and I don't like it. It's insulting!_

The fact that they were plotting something was only emphasized when she'd been informed back on the sixth that they'd all returned, but she **still** couldn't see them. They'd claimed that there had been "complications" of some sort and that they hoped they'd have it all sorted by the end of the full moon, forcing her to wait **another** ten days. She was absolutely furious at the disrespect they'd been showing her, and she had been tempted to just pack up and leave.

She probably would have, too, if the reigning goblin monarch hadn't been a childhood friend who had asked her personally to lead this delegation. _She even called me "Lufey," my childhood nickname_ , she grumbled, _just to put me off balance._

 _I still don't understand why she asked_ _ **me**_ , Lufestre fumed to herself. _I'm no diplomat. I'm the high priestess, for the Goddess' sake. I'm needed in our main temple. I shouldn't be cooling my heels here, waiting for those bird-brained harpies to get around to remembering that I exist!_

Lufestre closed her eyes and counted backwards from twenty in Mermish in an attempt to rein in her temper. Hellraiser apparently believed in her and felt she was the best choice for this mission, and she didn't want to disappoint her friend and queen. Besides, it wouldn't be a good idea to do anything violent here, where she and the others were surrounded by the legendary veela warriors, all of whom were looking distressingly larger, fiercer, and more imposing in their golden armor than the goblin intelligence reports said they should be.

 _It's possible that our records are wrong_ , she considered, _since they are so old; but it's more likely that something's changed — yet another reason why it was a bad idea for us to cease regular diplomatic exchanges with them._

Finally the massive doors opened and someone approached, inviting the goblin delegation to come in and address the Theledrion. _It's about time_ , Lufestre grumbled inwardly.

The first thing she noticed was the towering statues of ancient goddesses that stood along all four walls of the large Theledrion chambers. _I guess this is why Hellraiser wanted me to do this_ , she concluded. _I knew they were devotees of goddesses, but this is a bit more than I had expected._

The next thing she noticed was the Theledrion itself: two dozen veela sitting on the opposite side of a large table shaped in a half circle. Each was fitter and more beautiful than Lufestre could have imagined. Well, beautiful for humans, at any rate. It was only when she reached the table, however, that she realized they were all glowing slightly — glowing skin, glowing hair, and glowing eyes. It wasn't too strong, and one had to be close to really notice, especially in the daylight, but it was definitely there.

"What brings a goblin priestess to our sacred chambers?" asked one of the veela, her voice resonating with enough magical power to make Lufestre feel weak in the knees. _Haemed!_ she cursed inwardly. _I knew I should have turned this job down!_


	58. Stand By Me

**Recommendation** : This chapter's recommended fic is "The Spectrum of a Rainbow" by chelseyb. Tonks' hair changes color for a lot of reasons, not just because of fleeting emotions. Short, romantic one-shot. Harry/Tonks.

* * *

 **Chapter 58 - Stand By Me**

 **Monday, May 17, 1995. Morning.**

Albus Dumbledore sipped his morning tea as he stared at the letter from Sirius Black. It had taken over a month for this reply to come to him, longer than he had anticipated; and apparently it would be another month before Black would be able to get back into Britain, also much longer than he had hoped for. _Though it's not entirely unreasonable, given how extensive the manhunt for him has been_ , he admitted to himself. _At least he has a dwelling we can use, right in London, too, and he's confident that he'll be able to let people in safely by the time the term ends, which means the Order of the Phoenix will have it all summer._

So the delay wasn't a real problem. No, the problem lay in the fact that Black obviously expected to be with his goddaughter right from the beginning. He was arguably a bit aggressive in his expectations, truth be told. Dumbledore had framed his request to make it sound as though the need for a secure property was in large part to help Miss Potter and keep her safe. He'd done that in order to forestall any counter-demands that Black might make — Dumbledore knew that he'd do anything for his goddaughter.

 _Unfortunately, it appears as though that tactic has backfired a bit_ , Dumbledore lamented. _Since I focused on Miss Potter's safety, I can hardly complain that he's doing the same. But how do I get him to understand that she will be safest at Privet Drive, not at whatever Black family property he's opening up for us? How do I get him to give up on his expectation of spending all or most of the summer with her? She needs to spend as much time with her family as possible, if the blood wards are to receive their maximum boost, and that means most of the summer — until the last week of August, I expect. Given how weak they were when I was there, I wonder if even that will be enough._

Dumbledore had been ashamed at how often he'd failed in protecting not only Miss Potter, but also other students entrusted to his care. He was convinced that his protections around Privet Drive would rectify that, however. He was committed to protecting her, no matter what it took. Given all that she'd endured so far and all that she was likely to have to endure before the current conflict was over, she deserved nothing less from him.

* * *

Hermione Granger once again sat looking through the thick packet of parchment she'd received from Sirius Black back in March. Among other things, it detailed all he had been able to find out about blood tracking magic — spells for applying the trackers, for removing them, the construction of the devices, etc. He even included observations from his own personal testing of one of the devices. All in all, it was an impressive amount of information.

The more she read through it, though, the more she was inclined to think that Sirius had been right: they needed either the original caster or the magical instruments themselves in order to break the spell. She was optimistic that between the two of them, they might be able to break it without the instrument because they probably had the raw power necessary. However, that would alert Dumbledore or whoever had the instruments, and she wasn't sure that she wanted to do that.

 _If we could get into Dumbledore's office, we might be able to do something_ , Hermione considered, _but according to Jasmine there are a lot of instruments on his shelves, and there are lots of portraits that would be watching. Even if we could get in there under her invisibility cloak, they'd notice that something was going on, and we'd end up getting caught. It might be best if we simply save the "brute force" method for some time in the future when we're desperate and it's absolutely necessary._

* * *

 **Thursday, May 27, 1995. Evening.**

"I can't believe they did this," Cedric Diggory muttered to himself, still in shock. Hogwarts' beloved Quidditch pitch, once a pristine field of sporting dreams, had been dug up, assaulted, and turned into an obscene mockery of its original form. The Triwizard Tournament organizers had dared to violate that sacred ground, turning it into a nightmarish maze with who-knew-what lurking in its shadows.

Cedric shook his head, hoping to dispel the terrible image before him, but it stubbornly refused to go away. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't will the Quidditch pitch back to its rightful state.

"Is that all clear?" the villainous Bagman asked.

"What?" Cedric asked, wrenching his gaze away from the horror before him.

Bagman gave a long-suffering sigh and asked, "Were you paying any attention at all?"

"No," Cedric answered, getting a bit angry, "I was focusing too much on which curses would serve best as punishment for the crime of destroying our Quidditch pitch!"

"Too right," Jasmine growled in agreement, causing Bagman to falter, only now realizing what sort of trouble he might be in.

Cedric looked to the other two champions for support. Viktor, to his credit, gave every appearance of sympathy; Fleur's expression was unreadable, because for some strange reason she was wrapped head-to-toe in a cloak, her face completely hidden by the deep folds of its hood. Her headmistress stood stoically between her and the others, pointedly ignoring Cedric's outburst.

"I vill explain it to him," Viktor interjected, giving Bagman an excuse to hurry away with hasty, vague apologies about having other appointments. "Come vith me, I vant to talk to you anyvay," Krum said to Cedric. While Fleur and her headmistress returned silently to the Beauxbatons carriage and Jasmine stomped up to the castle, muttering to herself, Viktor and Cedric walked off a ways to stand near the Forbidden Forest where they wouldn't be easily overheard.

"So, what's going on?" Cedric asked.

"It's just a maze filled vith obstacles and beasts," Viktor explained. "Vee vill enter it on the 24th of June in the order of highest points to lowest." When Cedric nodded, Viktor went on. "I vanted to talk to you about something else, though. After the second task, I vas thinking that maybe vee should do the third task together as vell."

Cedric responded with a broad smile. "Funny, but I had the same thought. I just didn't know how to bring it up. I really enjoyed working with you other champions, and in some ways, I thought that completing the task together as a team was better than trying to do it individually."

Viktor nodded. "Good, then vee agree. Do you think the other two vill agree as vell?"

Cedric thought for a moment, then said, "Fleur probably will. The problem will be with Jasmine."

Viktor frowned and said, "But I thought she didn't care about points or vinning?"

"She doesn't," Cedric responded, "and I don't believe she'll think it appropriate to stand as equals with the rest of us. She'll insist on us three winning while she stays in the background."

Viktor looked thoughtful. "Ja, that makes sense. So vee three should be in agreement first, then vee have to convince her?"

Cedric considered that. "Yes, but we should include Hermione as well. I'm sure she'll agree with the three of us, and she has a lot of influence over Jasmine. With her on our side, Jasmine won't be able to reject our proposal."

Viktor smiled. "Good, if you vill talk to Fleur, I vill talk to Hermione. Then vee all talk to Jasmine on... Sunday? Ja?"

"Agreed," Cedric said. "Now all we need is..." Cedric never got to finish his sentence because they both heard a noise from the Forbidden Forest. Both wizards pulled their wands and assumed dueling positions as the noise got louder, but they held their fire when a man stumbled out of the darkness. His gaunt, unshaven face was difficult to see through the hair that hung limply down from his head, and his ripped robes hung in tatters around his thin body.

"Dumbledore!" the man croaked out.

"Mr. **Crouch**?" Cedric asked in amazement.

The man looked at him uncertainly before turning to a tree and saying again, "Dumbledore?"

"This is Hogwarts," Cedric answered, trying to catch his attention. "Dumbledore is here, somewhere in the castle, I'm sure."

"Must speak... Son!" the emaciated man continued, then he muttered something unintelligible before collapsing bonelessly to the ground.

"Merlin!" Cedric exclaimed. "This is Barty Crouch! They've been searching for him for weeks, and he looks like he's been through hell. Viktor, run to the castle and tell a professor. I'll levitate him and follow."

Viktor nodded and broke into a run while Cedric incanted _Wingardium Leviosa_ , raising the unconscious body into the air and following the Durmstrang champion at a much slower pace. By the time he was halfway to the castle's front doors, he was met by Minerva McGonagall, and when they reached the doors, Poppy Pomfrey was there. The school's healer immediately began casting diagnostic charms on the former ministry official while McGonagall hurried to the headmaster's office so the DMLE could be contacted.

* * *

Not five seconds after Jasmine dropped tiredly into her bed, she was joined by a very curious Hermione. "So, Jas, what happened? What did you learn?"

"For one thing," Jasmine began, "I learned that there is no lowest point of depravity beyond which the tournament organizers will not sink." Hermione just looked confused at this, so Jasmine went on, "It was horrible! An atrocity! They've torn up our beautiful Quidditch Pitch in order to create a massive hedgerow maze filled with magical obstacles and 'interesting' creatures supplied by Hagrid!"

"Oh," Hermione said disappointedly. "Is that all? I thought something serious might have happened."

"This is serious!" Jasmine cried, throwing up her hands in exasperation. "It's a crime, I tell you, a crime! I was about ready to transfigure Bagman into a rawhide bone for Fang to gnaw on, but the coward ran off!"

"Pfft," Hermione said, "It can't be that bad. I'm sure they'll put it all back the way it was when you're done."

"Yeah," Jasmine said with a dismissive gesture, "I think he said something about that while I was trying to remember the right wand movements for 'slobbering dog's chew toy,' but I'm not sure anymore."

Hermione rolled her eyes. She'd forgotten just how fanatical Jasmine could be about Quidditch. The past year without having to listen to Quidditch discussions had frankly been an absolute godsend — not that she'd ever admit that out loud. "So how do you want to train for the third task?"

Jasmine sighed. "Basic offensive and defensive spells, I guess. Maybe some extra detection spells so I can avoid traps?"

Hermione bit her bottom lip in thought, then said, "Why not just use the siege engine spell? If it can take down a castle wall, it will surely be effective against hedges — even magical hedges. Especially with your power."

Jasmine considered that for a moment, then shook her head and said, "Nah, it would be unfair to the others, especially with me going in first. Besides, that spell leaves you rather vulnerable for a bit after casting it, and who knows what might come at me from the sides or from behind."

"Oh, well," Hermione said sadly, "it would have been nice to see it in action in a real situation."

"You like that spell **way** too much," Jasmine said as Hermione repositioned herself and curled into Jasmine's side.

"No more than you like _Sphaera_ _Ignea_ ," Hermione pointed out.

"Yeah, but fire's cool!" Jasmine objected, suddenly yawning.

"And so's large-scale property damage," Hermione insisted, also unable to suppress a yawn.

"I wonder if there are careers in magical demolition," Jasmine murmured as she started drifting off to sleep.

"We'd so own that market," Hermione mumbled. "Jean And Dorea's Improvement Squad."

"Hm," Jasmine said as she drifted off. "That's not so bad for once."

Hermione made a mental note to make sure her girlfriend read the Narnia books at some point.

* * *

 **Saturday, May 29, 1995. Afternoon.**

Fleur Delacour stood nude in front of her full-length mirror, turning this way and that as she examined her body.

"I never realized you were so vain, sister dear," Gabrielle drawled as she walked into their shared room.

Fleur rolled her eyes as she moved to the bed to get her robe. "I was just making sure that I wasn't glowing anymore! It's bad enough that our schedule doesn't let us socialize with anyone else, but to have to hide from all the non-veela around here has been maddening. Now I don't have to hide anymore — and just in time, too, since I have to meet the other champions tomorrow."

"Oh?" Gabrielle asked innocently. "So you intend to walk around the carriage and castle like that now? Or maybe you'll go to your meeting like that?"

"Oi! Brat!" Fleur exclaimed, grabbing a pillow and throwing it at her giggling sister. "You shouldn't talk. I saw you admiring how much faster your physical changes are coming on. You stand in front of that same mirror at least twice a day!"

"You're just jealous that I'm developing faster than you did," Gabrielle retorted, her nose up in the air.

"Not hardly!" Fleur said, then her voice softened in sympathy. "I've seen how sore your joints and muscles get from how much you're growing, and that's on top of the aches and pains we both get from our heavy training." Gabrielle involuntarily winced and rubbed at her shoulders. "Come here and lie down," Fleur ordered as she tied the belt of her robe. "Let me rub your back."

Gabrielle dutifully took off her own robe and lay face-down on the bed so Fleur could begin massaging her shoulders and back. After a few minutes of groaning and purring in delight as her sister worked the soreness out of her muscles, Gabrielle managed to ask, "Fleur, have you found out yet why the Beltane ritual was so powerful?"

"I don't think anyone knows for sure," Fleur answered. "I know they were all expecting something powerful and exciting, With so many witches participating, plus the participation of Jasmine and Hermione, they all knew that there would be a lot of magic when the goddesses multiplied and enhanced it all. But what we actually experienced…."

"What we actually experienced was something now believed to be unique in our history," Apolline said from the doorway. Both sisters jumped a little, not having heard their mother enter. They were surprised to see her magically seal and silence the door before crossing the room to them. When she sat down on the bed, she looked at her youngest daughter with a slightly sad expression on her face. "I was never entirely sure about letting you participate in Beltane..."

"Maman!" Gabrielle protested, pouting in a manner that usually let her get her way.

"No, don't try that on me now," Apolline said sternly. "You did that for three days and I caved, letting you attend with your sister. Now I'm wondering if perhaps I shouldn't have."

"What was so unique?" Fleur asked, deliberately interrupting the eternal argument that went on between the other two.

Apolline sighed. "What I'm about to tell you is considered highly classified. Very few people know it — even most of those who participated may never find out, but given your roles in prophecy, I think you should be told. Unfortunately, this is also all rather speculative. It's impossible to verify, but our political and religious leaders are, I'm told, fairly confident in their conclusions."

Fleur and Gabrielle were now completely focused on their mother, all thoughts about massages and sore muscles forgotten. "Normally, witches are picked out to represent the goddesses in certain rituals. On this past Beltane, though, Céleste made two significant changes to the ritual — changes that were completely unauthorized and which she cannot account for. She remembers doing it, but she cannot explain why. First, she didn't pick out the representatives as she was supposed to; instead she allowed them to be picked through some other, unknown means. She announced that the garlands had been spelled to do it, but the one thing she doesn't remember doing is casting any such spell, and no one was able to find such spells on the garlands later on."

The two sisters' eyes were growing wide at these revelations. "Finally," Apolline continued, "she changed the language of the ritual. Although there is no set speech that gets delivered every year, there is certain, specific language that isn't changed — like labeling someone as a 'representative' of the goddesses when they fulfill a certain symbolic role in the ritual. That's the word I used when I asked Jasmine and Hermione to fulfill those roles during Eostre. That was **not** the word Céleste used at Beltane. The word she used... was **vessels**."

Fleur frowned in confusion. "I do not understand. What does that—"

Gabrielle quickly sat up. "Don't you see? As their representatives, they merely would have played the roles of the goddesses symbolically. As their vessels, they **were** the goddesses. Or the goddesses were **in** them!"

Fleur tried to contradict her sister, but stopped short when she saw her mother nod. "How can that be possible?" Fleur asked.

"I do not know," Apolline admitted. "I would have said that such a thing was little more than a fairy tale had I simply heard it and not lived it. But I don't think there is any other explanation for the amount of magic we experienced. Every single one of us is growing stronger — magically, physically, and mentally. And while most of the magic was concentrated in the forest, we have found traces of it up to two hundred kilometers away, covering most of Scotland. Something similar happened with Eostre, but the effects were smaller. Beltane was significantly stronger, with much faster results."

Gabrielle fixed her mother with an intense look. "Do you… do you think they still are the vessels of the goddesses? Or will be again?"

Apolline frowned, not accustomed to such fervor from her youngest daughter. "I'm afraid I do not know. Like I said, we can't actually verify that they ever were, it's just the only explanation that anyone has been able to come up with."

"And what does the Theledrion think about this?" Fleur asked.

"Opinions are mixed," Apolline answered. "They are all generally quite pleased with the changes they've experienced, and reports from the non-veela witches who were invited were all incredibly positive. There is, however, some concern and even a bit of fear at the prospect of actual goddesses directly participating in our rituals. Regardless of whether one believes that they are real, independent persons or merely aspects of a single goddess, the amount of raw power they can bring is incalculable. We probably only experienced a fraction of their potential on Beltane because no mortal witch could possibly channel _all_ of a goddess's power. As those two witches grow, however, and as their bond develops, the amount of power they will be able to channel will surely increase. And then what will happen? What will they be capable of?"

"Are you scared?" Fleur asked.

"I… I'm not sure," Apolline admitted. "A little, I guess. How could I not be? The idea of possibly standing in the presence of a goddess is… is… well, I'm not sure there are words to describe it. And then I remember that I threw an emergency shelter over them to give them privacy… and the things Adrienne and I were doing right outside… right next to them!" Fleur felt herself grow warm, remembering that she, too, had been just a few feet away.

"It's both humbling and empowering," Apolline continued. "It's given me a lot to think about — that much is certain."

"I'll bet they still are, or at least will be again, vessels for the goddesses," Gabrielle said softly to herself as her mother and sister debated the likelihood and consequences of actual goddesses participating in their ritual celebrations.

* * *

 **Sunday, May 30, 1995. Evening.**

Jasmine Potter was outnumbered and surrounded. The ambush had been expertly executed, catching her completely off guard and not allowing her a single avenue of escape. They knew all her tricks and seemed to anticipate her every move, countering her before she had scarcely begun. Her mind raced with possible attacks, but every one she considered seemed less likely to achieve victory than the last.

Taking a deep breath to calm and center herself, she looked around again, but could find no mercy in the faces of any of her opponents.

"You're sure I can't talk you out of this?" Jasmine finally asked, her slumped posture communicating defeat. She could tell when they shook their heads, though, that they didn't trust her not to try and worm her way out of it anyway. _Hermione's influence_ , _of_ _course_ , Jasmine thought with a scowl. _She probably warned them._

"All right, all right," Jasmine declared, "I'll go along with it." Only now did Hermione relax, signalling to the other three champions that Jasmine really had given up.

"Whose bright idea was this, again?" Jasmine asked, mentally making a list of who to target first for revenge.

"Everyone decided on it together," Cedric answered, denying her even that much.

"Now vee should agree on a strategy," Viktor said.

While the others nodded, Jasmine directed an annoyed look at Hermione. Before the conversation could progress, she announced, "I think I know a way to deal with this task relatively quickly and easily." The other champions couldn't fail to notice the smug expression on Hermione's face, though they didn't understand it.

"How can we defeat such a large maze quickly and easily?" Cedric asked.

Jasmine sighed and explained, "I can cast the siege engine spell. I wasn't going to use it because it didn't seem fair to the rest of you and because it leaves me vulnerable — every time it's cast, the caster has to wait a little bit before they can do anything, much less cast it again. With you three there, however, you can watch the sides and back while I focus on the hedges."

"That sounds familiar," Cedric said. "What is that spell?"

"It's something Hermione reconstructed from references spread out across different history texts," Jasmine explained. "It was created in the middle ages to take down castle walls."

"Will it work on hedges?" Fleur asked.

"It should," Hermione answered. "It isn't limited to just stone walls — it functions like a huge battering ram. Theoretically you can cast it at anything, and whatever is in front of you will have a very, very bad day."

Viktor scowled and said, "It still seems unfair, forcing you to do most of the work."

"Non," Fleur interjected. "She will be working 'ard, but we will be facing ze creatures. She will be ze most vulnerable, and we will be facing ze most danger."

Cedric nodded. "Sounds like a fair division of labor. Well, unless Jasmine's spell drives everything off and the rest of us end up with nothing to do, but how likely is that?"

"How likely is it that I'll get attacked by something 'interesting' just when I'm at my most vulnerable?" Jasmine asked with a snort. "With my luck, the siege engine spell will draw in everything from all over the maze, not scare them off."

"Then the three of us vill have a lot to do," Viktor said. "You make sure you can cast that spell vell and vee vill vork on our shields and offensive curses."

"Excellent suggestion," Cedric said, clapping his hands once. "That spell may make short work of the task."

"Don't thank me, thank She-Who-Loves-Demolition over here," Jasmine said with a jerk of her head towards Hermione, who still looked smug. "It was originally her idea, which I rejected for the reasons I explained. She just wishes she had a good excuse to use the spell against something real and wanted to see what I could do with it."

"You can both cast it, then?" Viktor asked, his eyes widening in surprise.

Hermione nodded happily, and Jasmine replied, "Sure, but Hermione likes it a bit too much." Hermione harrumphed at that, but she didn't say anything when she noticed that her girlfriend was smiling.

Jasmine had somewhat less practice at using the siege engine spell than Hermione did, but there was plenty of time before the final task, and she could prevail upon Professor Flitwick to take both girls to the private training area so they could practice.

* * *

 **Monday, May 31, 1995. Late Night.**

Hellraiser poured two glasses of expensive Napoleon brandy while eyeing her newly returned envoy, Lufestre Gydenna. High priestess of the Goblin Nation as well as a lifelong friend, she was one of a very small number of goblins who were trusted enough to be left alone with the goblin queen without the presence of even a single guard.

She was also one of the very few that would be personally served food or drink by the hands of the queen — technically a breach of ancient protocol, but Hellraiser didn't stand on protocol when in personal meetings like this. That was why she consented to have this meeting while still wearing her dressing gown, much as it annoyed her.

After they'd both had a fortifying sip of the human drink, Hellraiser broke the silence. "It's been over a month since you left us, Lufey. A month, when it was anticipated that you'd be able to complete your mission — whether successfully or not — in half that time. A month with hardly any sort of communication except vague messages to say that you were waiting, and even the last one of those was over two weeks ago."

She paused to take another sip, then continued, "Then you return in a rush and insist that you must speak to me in private. You will not wait for the morrow. You will not wait for the council to be gathered. You will not even wait for me to get dressed properly!" She let this complaint hang in the air for a moment before saying, "It is only because of our long association and the trust I have in you that I've been this tolerant. I love you like a sister, Lufey, but rumors about your behavior have probably spread over half the city by now, so you'd better have a good reason for it."

Lufestre took a large sip of her drink, quietly accepting the rebuke, then answered, "I hope you find my reasons sufficient, for I have only had the best interests of our nation at heart in choosing to act in such haste." When the queen nodded, she continued, "I did not get to see anyone from the Theledrion until I'd been there for two weeks, and after that it seemed that I did nothing but engage in discussions and negotiations with them. Unfortunately, for all the time and effort that I expended, I have precious little to show for it."

The queen was clearly unhappy at hearing that, so the high priestess quickly continued, "You know that I'm no diplomat! Maybe someone with actual training could have cut through all the nonsense faster, but the constant back-and-forth took forever. I swear, we spent hours and hours dancing around topics without actually getting to the point or accomplishing anything! In the end, the problem is that I wasn't the one they truly wanted to talk to. Or not me alone, at least. That information that we wanted? They certainly have it, but they refused to simply reveal it to me. They said they would reveal it to me along with you and the Bet Bel, and even then only as part of broader negotiations for political and military alliance."

Hellraiser paused in mid-sip at hearing that bit of news. "Alliance?" she asked incredulously. "There has never been any sort of alliance between our nations. Nothing beyond commercial agreements, and even those took ages to hammer out. Why would they seek so much more? And why now?"

"I asked them much the same thing," the priestess answered, "and they agreed that it must seem bizarre. They assured me, however, that it would be worthwhile. They further assured me that they had no intent to make any moves on Britain or against us. They also insisted that their actions are not intended primarily to move against the returned Dark Lord."

"Not as a **primary** intent," Hellraiser interjected, "but it may be a secondary one?"

Lufestre shrugged. "They wouldn't say anything beyond what I described, but that was my conclusion."

Hellraiser looked thoughtful for a moment, slowly tapping her claws against the glass in her hands, then said, "That makes sense if their focus is the Potter witch. She's an obvious target for that dark lord, and if they want to help or use her in any way, they can expect to have to deal with him at some point. So, yes, not a primary focus — that is indeed quite informative. Yet it raises even more questions — like what their interests could possibly be in that witch."

The priestess nodded and said softly, "Yes."

Hellraiser narrowed her eyes and said, "Lufey, you've been acting oddly. Very oddly. Is there something you're not telling me?"

Her friend sighed. "There is much I'm not telling you, but I'm not sure how to explain it or if you'll even believe me. I'm not sure I believe it myself, and I was there."

"Try," the queen said in a commanding voice.

For the first time, the priestess looked up into her queen's eyes. Slowly, she began to explain, "It was not like I expected it to be. I experienced tremendous power there. Some of it was quite dangerous — when I was in the presence of their guards, I felt like I sometimes do when I'm around some of our elite warriors. Some of it, though, was... well, 'comforting' is the only way I can describe it. Like when I'm at our temple, praying to the Goddess."

The queen's eyebrows rose up in surprise at hearing this. "It's true," Lufestre insisted. "And all of them were glowing with power — literally glowing. Skin, hair, eyes, everything glowed. And they resonated with power. It was both amazing and disturbing. Something has happened to them, something tremendous; but instead of threatening us, they seem to want to ally with us — to make common cause with us."

Hellraiser sat in silence for a long while, pondering everything she'd just learned. Finally she asked, "Recommendations?"

Lufestre didn't hesitate. "If the answers they're willing to share are even half as surprising as the things I witnessed, then I don't think we can afford **not** to make every effort to learn them. They don't demand an alliance first, only that we start negotiations. I think they want a sign of good faith on our part — a demonstration of genuine willingness to work with them."

"And if what you're telling me is correct," the queen responded, "then they expect that we'll be so impressed by the answers that we'll continue those negotiations even after learning what we want to know."

Lufestre nodded, and Hellraiser quietly thought for a bit more. Eventually, she said, "Since you just finished visiting them, I guess it will be our turn next to host a delegation from the veela. And as you are now our resident expert on all things veela, especially when it comes to the current veela political situation, you know of course that you'll be in charge of hosting and helping any representatives they send?"

Hellraiser used her glass of brandy to hide her smile at Lufey's stricken look.

* * *

 **Wednesday, June 2, 1995, Evening.**

" **Wah!** Please don't be making us leave!"

Hermione and Jasmine were both getting their robes soaked by a pair of wailing house elves. At first Dobby had been crying and sniffling into Jasmine's robes while Winky did the same with Hermione. Before long, however, they switched, and not long after that they switched back and started all over again. Neither of the two witches was particularly happy at the display, but neither had the heart to put a stop to it, either. It was, after all, entirely their fault that this was happening.

Professor McGonagall had finally heard back from her muggle friend who handled the harvesting and disposal of magical creatures, and he thought that house elves could probably learn how to do it. He had agreed to teach two of them in exchange for ten percent of the total value of what was sold and enough of the hide to make three short-sleeved tunics, which Jasmine thought was a terrific deal.

Hermione and Jasmine then asked Winky and Dobby if they would be willing to learn those skills so they could take care of the basilisk corpse in the Chamber of Secrets. That was when the trouble started. No house elf had ever been able to truly differentiate between a request and a command, not even an elf as independently minded as Dobby. On the one hand, both elves were thrilled that they would be learning new things and would then be given a huge, complex, and messy task — the messier, the better! On the other hand, it would require that they be separated from their mistresses for two months — wherever they were going, it was too far away to pop back and forth, so once Dobby and Winky had left, they would be committed.

And right now, they were waiting for the time when the portkey would activate, carrying the two devoted house elves to an unknown place where they'd be taught by a completely unknown person. It was only the witches' trust in McGonagall that brought them to this point. She had assured them that he was not only as brave and chivalrous as a Gryffindor, but also as trustworthy and loyal as a Hufflepuff, despite not being magical and never having attended Hogwarts.

"How will mistresses be coping?" cried Winky. "Who be doing mistresses' laundry? **Hic!** Who be making mistresses' beds? **Hic!** "

"Who be watching over mistresses?" sobbed Dobby. "Who be protecting their secrets? Who be guarding their meetings?"

"It's all right," Hermione said, "It's not that bad."

" **Wah!** " Winky cried, even louder now. "Missy Hermy not be needing her Winky anymore!"

"No, no!" Hermione said in a rush. "That's not it at all! I do need you, really! I just mean that I'll manage." Seeing that Winky still looked stricken, she continued, "Somehow. Badly, I'm sure, and I can't wait until you're back because I'm just pants at, well, everything!"

"Really?" Winky asked in a hopeful voice.

"Absolutely!" Hermione lied. "Why, I'll... I'll probably be half dead by the time you return!"

" **Wah!** " Winky cried out again. "Missy Hermy be needing her Winky! Winky cannot be leaving!"

"Don't worry," Jasmine interjected, elbowing her girlfriend hard in the side. "I'll keep her alive, and she'll keep me alive." The last was added hastily when she saw Dobby about to cry out. "It won't be easy, but it'll be worth it because we know that you'll come back to us as the best trained, most skilled elves in all of magical Britain!"

"Truly?" Dobby asked in wonderment.

"Truly!" Jasmine reassured them. "We want you to be the best, and we're willing to sacrifice a bit in order to see that it happens. That's what family does: sacrifice to help each other. That's a big part of what love is all about, and love is what makes a family." Jasmine looked at her watch and saw that it was almost time to go. "Here," she said, shoving a broken broom handle into their hands. "Only ten seconds until it activates."

"Bye, Winky! Bye, Dobby!" the witches said in unison as they waved. "We'll miss you!"

Once the elves were gone, Jasmine turned and fixed her girlfriend with a glare. "'I'll be half dead by the time you get back?' What in Morgana's name were you thinking?"

"I panicked!" Hermione whinged. "I'm sorry, I'm not used to comforting crying elves. Or crying **anything** , for that matter."

"Yeah, well, we're just lucky that they didn't grab us again before the portkey left," Jasmine said irritably. "Who knows where we might have ended up."

* * *

Winky and Dobby stared up in mute horror at the figure before them, hugging each other and quivering in fear. Tall, dark-haired, well-muscled, and wearing an eye patch, the muggle looming over them would have been scary and imposing even without the large axe he carried.

"So," he said in a voice they were sure was full of hidden menace, no matter how friendly it seemed, "you're the elves I'm supposed to teach?"

They nodded vigorously, their bat-like ears flapping all over the place. The man looked like he was trying to hide a smile as he asked, "What are your names?"

"I be Dobby, and this be Winky," Dobby answered in a tremulous voice.

"Dobby and Winky?" the man repeated, now smiling openly. "Really? With names like those, I think you'll fit in just fine around here." He held out a large, calloused hand and introduced himself. "You can call me Xander."

 **Tuesday, June 15, 1995. Evening.**

At the end of another session of practical defense instruction for the inter-house study group, which was also now the core membership of both S.P.E.W. (no one had come up with a better name yet, and it wasn't from a lack of trying) and the DA, Jasmine and Hermione asked the witches — including Professor McGonagall — to remain for a few minutes longer because they had something important to discuss. The wizards looked a bit put out by that, but they were assured that it specifically concerned witches and no offense was intended.

Once they were alone, Jasmine explained, "As you may or may not know, Hermione and I have been spending a lot of time with the other champions, including French champion Fleur Delacour. As a part of that, Fleur has over the course of the year invited us to a couple of ritual holiday celebrations. We asked and she agreed to let us invite all of you to the next one, Midsummer's Eve."

"It'll be the night before the third task," Hermione added, "and the rituals are all-female — veela and French witches. That's why we're talking to just you."

The expressions on the witches' faces ranged from surprised to intrigued to calculating. "Have you really participated in multiple ritual celebrations?" Hannah asked excitedly.

"Three, to be exact," Jasmine responded.

"The Ministry disapproves of them, claiming that they're dark or superstitious," Daphne pointed out cautiously.

"True," Hermione admitted, "but I can assure you that there's nothing the least bit dark about anything we've done or seen others do. The rituals can, however, be very powerful, especially when there are more people participating."

"Will the Midsummer's Eve celebration be large?" Susan asked.

Jasmine shook her head. "I don't think so. Fleur said that she wanted to have something a little smaller for your first time. Beltane was absolutely huge, and I'm sure that this won't be anything of that magnitude."

"You were at the Beltane celebration?" Padma asked in awe. "The one the Headmaster warned us against going to?"

McGonagall rolled her eyes as Jasmine slapped her hand over her mouth. "Never mind her," Hermione said. "Sometimes she speaks without thinking. **If** we had been at the Beltane ritual, it would have been huge and utterly amazing. Mind-bogglingly amazing, I'm sure. But we weren't. So we can only speculate at how incredibly transformative it was. Or would have been, I mean."

The witches all shot each other knowing looks before one by one, they accepted the invitation. None of them were truly certain about whether it was a good idea or not, but they'd all heard stories about the rituals conducted in the old days, and they were all certain that they'd never find a better, safer opportunity to experience such a thing themselves. Susan was the most apprehensive, knowing how much her aunt would disapprove. Padma was the most curious, eager to learn something new. And Daphne was the most calculating, guessing that there was more going on than there appeared to be and hopeful about the opportunities this could open up.

After the others had left, McGonagall asked her two Gryffindors, "Are you sure about inviting me? Don't you want to just do it with your classmates? With witches your own age?"

Both Jasmine and Hermione looked aghast at the idea. "Professor, you were the **first** person we thought of inviting!" Hermione insisted.

"Yeah," Jasmine added, "there's no one else we'd like to share the experience of a ritual celebration with more than you!"

McGonagall made a point of staying ahead of them as they walked to the Gryffindor tower so they wouldn't see the unshed tears in her eyes.

* * *

 **Sunday, June 20, 1995, Night.**

"Correct!" Hermione said happily, then leaned over and gave Jasmine a passionate kiss. "You got every question right! Let's work on Charms next."

Hermione reached down under her bed and exchanged her Potions text for Charms so she could start quizzing her girlfriend on the other final exam they'd have the next day.

As one of the Triwizard Tournament champions, Jasmine didn't have to sit for any of the exams, and being exempt had been one of the only things Jasmine appreciated about being forced into the tournament. Hermione, in contrast, hadn't appreciated it at all and thought it was scandalous that Jasmine planned on skipping the exams. Didn't she realize that if she couldn't be sure that she properly learned the material this year, she'd be in much worse shape next year? And next year was their OWL year! Skipping her exams was the absolute **worst** thing she could do.

Hermione had been working to change Jasmine's mind about that ever since November 1st, but with little success at first. It was only after they had become a romantic couple that Hermione had a breakthrough — and even then, she knew she couldn't rush it. She had to play a long game, and starting on Valentine's Day she began to offer "incentives" and "rewards" to Jasmine — first for doing essays quickly and efficiently, then later for getting correct answers when revising for tests.

Once this new system had been fully implemented, Jasmine had no problems with revising, and Hermione found it relatively easy to convince the auburn-haired witch to revise for final exams. And what's the point of revising if you don't sit for the exams, too? The only concession that she had to make was for an extra reward at the end of a revision session for doing especially well — and to help them both relax. Truth be told, it wasn't really all that much of a concession on Hermione's part, but she put up a token resistance for appearance's sake.

Fortunately Jasmine persisted in her demand, and now she was doing so well that it looked like she would end up earning that extra reward — and then some. Hermione smiled inwardly and thought, _If I'd known that rewards like that were such a great way to get revising done, I'd have started doing this ages ago._

After asking her first question, she looked up and noticed that Jasmine was deep in thought with her tongue poking out the side of her mouth just a little bit. _Did she… did she always do that?_ Hermione asked herself. _Or is this a recent thing?_

Slowly, as Jasmine worked out the answer, her tongue slid sideways, wetting her lips before it curled up ever so slightly, then slipped back in. Hermione felt herself go flush with heat and completely missed Jasmine's answer. _Maybe we can skip Charms tonight and study it tomorrow_ , she thought as her book slipped from her fingers and she pounced on her girlfriend.

* * *

Jasmine stretched out on her bed, feeling completely relaxed and at peace. Hermione's arms and legs were wrapped around her as she drifted off to sleep. Jasmine felt rather proud of herself for having made it through revising for an entire subject before breaking down and tempting her girlfriend into abandoning revision in favor of the rewards.

Smiling, she thought to herself, _If I'd known that revising was such a great way to get rewards like that, I'd have started doing this ages ago._


	59. Light My Fire

**A/N:** This chapter contains a scene involving a magical ritual celebration created with elements from both ancient and modern beliefs and practices. It does not describe any actual rituals or celebrations, past or present. See chapter 29 for the full disclaimer about such rituals.

That said, of special note is the short verse I include here, which is said to have been chanted by witches in Cornwall and continues to be used by some. The connections to events in this story meant that I simply couldn't _not_ use it.

Some readers may wonder at how much more often these rituals are happening. That's merely a function of how much faster the story is moving. They can't be skipped, though: aside from their function in the plot, they have a great deal of symbolic importance as well. These rituals — the language, the actions, and the themes — mesh with events in the story, both closely related scenes and the overarching plot.

Also, the Xander cameo in the previous chapter was just that: a cameo. I had an open slot that needed to be filled by someone, and he was available to work that afternoon, so I figured... why not? It added a little humor to an otherwise dry bit of plot. Don't expect him to be back, though, because he normally has a very busy schedule.

 **Recommendation** : This chapter's recommended fic is "Hermione's Brilliant Idea" by . Harry doesn't want to be in the Triwizard Tournament, he doesn't trust Dumbledore anymore, and he's getting tired of being hated by the entire school. Fortunately, Hermione has a plan for dealing with it all. H/Hr.

* * *

 **Chapter 59 - Light My Fire**

 **Wednesday, June 23, 1995, 9:30PM.**

Seven students and one professor quietly padded away from the Beauxbatons carriage and into the Forbidden Forest. Two of the students had done this twice already, but the five who were new to this sort of thing all held onto each other for mutual comfort and support. Despite being accompanied by Professor McGonagall and an intimidating-looking veela escort, they were all outside the castle well after the 9PM curfew, and they'd have been hard-pressed to come up with a reasonable excuse for their activities. It was only because of getting a "late detention" from Professor McGonagall that their absence from their dorms hadn't already raised an alarm.

In ones and twos they had snuck out of the castle before curfew, made their way to the carriage, and hid there until it was time for them to move as a group to the ritual circle. They also had to change into incredibly thin, yellow cotton shifts which were all they were allowed to wear. They couldn't even have on bras and knickers — it was positively scandalous!

Being dressed in such a manner (while outside, no less), combined with breaking dozens of school rules, and all with a normally stern professor who was doing the same thing, made the young witches practically giddy with adrenaline and excitement.

"It feels a bit like an adventure, doesn't it?" Tracey whispered to Daphne. "You know, like what Jasmine and Hermione get up to?"

"Kinda," agreed Daphne, "Just, you know, without all the screaming and running."

"Oh, yeah," Tracey conceded. "That's good, though."

As they made their way into the Forbidden Forest, the Hogwarts witches immediately knew that something very significant had been happening. Only a few of them had actually been in the forest before, and even then not very far, but they all knew the stories about how dark and foreboding it was. There were good reasons why it was named the Forbidden Forest, and why some even called it simply the Dark Forest.

The forest they were walking through now, however, was anything but dark, and it didn't look as though it should be considered forbidden. Instead of looking twisted and menacing, the trees were all straight, tall and perhaps even proud. There was bright green growth everywhere along with a multitude of brightly colored flowers of all types. There was also a plethora of magical plants, none of which were dangerous. The forest seemed to them enchanted, almost idyllic.

"Are you seeing this?" Hannah asked. As the best Herbology student in the group, she was the most familiar with the forest. "I didn't think that some of these plants grew here anymore!"

"Anymore?" Susan asked.

"Yes," Hannah replied. "The forest used to be much less dangerous and provided a lot more in the way of magical plants for students to work with. Some of these, though, haven't been available from the forest for generations. Or if they were, it's been too dangerous to gather them."

"Something's happened here," Daphne said quietly. "I can't wait to write my parents and let them know about this."

"I don't think either your mum or your dad will want to know the details of how you found out, though," Tracey said with a sly look, earning her a scowl in return.

Before long, they came across a couple of unusually large centaurs, both armed, and the Hogwarts witches all tensed. They knew how much centaurs disliked witches and wizards, not to mention how much they hated it when others trespassed on their land. Yet instead of making threats or acting hostile, the centaurs were exceptionally polite, addressing them as "ladies," welcoming them to the forest, and promising to do their utmost to ensure that they would all be protected.

The young witches gave each other questioning looks once they passed by their apparent guards. That was **not** how centaurs were supposed to act, which only underscored their earlier feeling that something had radically changed about the forest. Daphne was once again heard muttering something about writing to her parents.

Soon they had arrived at the ritual circle. It was still as large as it had been on Beltane, but it was now surrounded by even more green growth and vibrant flowers than it had been on that holiday. Each of the witches, young and old, were given lovely garlands to wear on their heads. Made up of clover, red and white hawthorn, St. John's Wort, azaleas, and wild roses, the garlands gave each of them an almost otherworldly look.

Before entering, they were each anointed with a bit of consecrated honey, and once inside they were all served a mug of mead made from fermented honey from the same hive. While everyone drank and took time to introduce themselves, Fleur showed the newcomers the altar off to the side from the central bonfire ring, its fire yet unlit. Centered on the altar was a large, unlit candle decorated with a sun motif, and to the left and right were statues of the goddesses Hestia and Áine.

The Hogwarts witches had thought the veela rather cold and standoffish during the walk into the forest, but once inside the circle they seemed to transform, becoming incredibly warm and friendly. They all introduced themselves and seemed eager to get to know the younger witches — what they studied, their families, and so forth.

Either the mead or the magic had started to affect them, because they finally began to relax. Minerva McGonagall's normally stern expression was completely transformed to the point where she hardly looked like the same person, especially with her hair having been let down to flow across her shoulders. In a fit of playfulness, Susan began twirling around in the grass, but the resulting breeze caused her to stop abruptly and grow red in embarrassment when it reminded her of what she was wearing… or more precisely, what she wasn't wearing.

* * *

 **Wednesday, June 23, 1995, 9:50PM.**

Once most of them had finished their mead, a veela named Juliette announced the beginning of the celebration. Everyone gathered around the ritual circle, whereupon Juliette began to speak. "We come together this evening so that we may once more celebrate the power of the sun, the source of light, warmth, and life for us all. On this date it has been traditional for young women to use divination to find a husband, or for couples to formalize relationships that started the previous Beltane. For obvious reasons, we won't be doing that this evening."

There were some nervous titters among the Hogwarts witches at that. "We will, however, be focusing on the things which connect us, which bind us all together," Juliette continued. "Flowers bloom. Crops grow. Life flourishes. It is time to remember why, and to remember how much we all depend on each other, just as we depend on the sun."

Juliette waved her wand and silently lit the bonfire. It was fairly small — small enough that it was easy for even the shortest witch to see over it to the witches on the other side. As if on cue, several of the veela picked up small drums and began playing while others started to sing. For a moment the Hogwarts witches wondered if they should be doing something, but their tension eased when they noticed that they weren't the only ones not singing or drumming. As they relaxed, the magic of the ritual began to take hold, bringing their magic in sync with that of the other participants.

After a few minutes, Juliette turned to the altar and chanted:

Green is gold.  
Fire is wet.  
Fortunes told.  
Dragon's met!

Fleur and Gabrielle gave each other surprised looks. This was a standard chant used every year and not something they'd ever given much thought to. Today, though, it seemed to have a much more profound significance because each line could describe either them or Jasmine and Hermione.

"Do you zink it eez just a coincidence?" Gabrielle asked softly.

"Non," Fleur whispered with a shake of her head. "In zis, I do not believe zere can be any coincidences. We should point it out to Maman and Adrienne." Ever since Beltane they'd been watching the two witches more closely. The couple's bond had, unsurprisingly, taken a massive leap forward after their exposure to so much magic… and their own private activities, presumably. The power rolling off of Hermione and Jasmine was frightening at times, and the connection itself now seemed like the singing of a large chorus — and they were sure that the bond wasn't even complete yet, though they obviously couldn't ask.

While Juliette chanted and some of the veela sang, a large number of fairies had entered the circle from the surrounding forest. This was the time of year when they were most active, and they had been attracted by the growing magic of the ritual. Each witch soon had several fairies either circling her head or resting in her garland, attracted by the colors and smells of the flowers. A few even chose to sample the honey that the witches had been anointed with on their foreheads.

"This is amazing!" Padma whispered to no one in particular as she stretched her arms out to either side. She'd spent the entire time thus far trying to analyze every aspect of the ritual. She'd only ever read vague descriptions of them and never expected to participate in one personally, so she had intended to extract as much information from the experience as possible. The appearance of so many fairies, though, simply shut down the analytical portion of her brain, and she finally started to just experience what was happening.

As the sun dropped even lower, Juliette once again spoke: "As the sun sets and this day ends, we mark the beginning of the midsummer, the longest day of the year. Until now the strength and power of the sun has been increasing; after midsummer, the power of the sun will wane, and the nights will once again grow longer. Yet this is not a time to mourn, because for everything there is a season. For all the beauty and bounty around us, it, too, will pass, and that is why we honor what we have received from the sun rather than take it for granted."

A few minutes before the sun dipped below the horizon, discs made from birch and about the size of a galleon were distributed. "It is traditional to make protective amulets on Midsummer's Eve," Juliette explained. "This is done while the sun sets and heralds the arrival of Midsummer's Day."

Each of the Hogwarts witches, even Minerva, was paired with a veela who showed them which runes needed to be inscribed where, and then how to push a bit of their magic into the discs to prime them. Hermione paired with Fleur while Jasmine paired with Gabrielle, who had barely taken her eyes off of Jasmine since they'd all left the carriages.

"These were made from a large branch of a very old birch tree which one of the centaurs collected for us," Juliette explained to the group. "So it is already imbued with the magic of this forest. Adding your magic will atune it to you. Very shortly it will be energized with the magic of our ritual, and then it will provide protection for you until next Midsummer's Eve, when you're expected to create another.

Although the Hogwarts witches were attentive to their unexpected runes lesson, they were also chatting away with the veela who were helping them, excited about what they were learning and already hopeful about the possibility of attending more celebrations in the future.

* * *

 **Wednesday, June 23, 1995, 10:20PM.**

"It is now time for us to light our midsummer candles," Juliette announced. Once everyone was standing in a circle around the low fire and holding their own white candle, the woman knelt before the altar and prayed, "Hestia, goddess of the hearth and family, heed our call and provide the light, warmth, and love we need to persevere. Welcome us into your bosom, that we may truly know we are loved and cherished. Áine, goddess of love and fertility, heed our call and bless the bounty of the earth, that we may be provided with sustenance and our community may flourish for yet another year."

As soon as she finished, the large candle on the altar burst into flame. Juliette then took a white candle for herself, lit it from the sun candle, then turned to the witch standing next to her. As she lit the woman's candle from her own, she recited: "May the sun light your path, warm your hearth, and rejuvenate your life." That witch turned to the witch on her other side and repeated the process.

Every time a new candle was lit, the central fire grew higher — much higher than the small fuel source should have been able to support. Every time the incantation was repeated, the ground around the witch speaking started to glow, and tiny motes of magical energy floated around her ankles. More and more energy collected around the witches while the central fire grew ever higher.

Jasmine and Hermione had grown accustomed to such sights, though they still found it amazing. The other young Hogwarts witches, however, had never seen anything like it and couldn't stop staring at the pooling energy around their feet. It was only now that they were coming to truly understand just how much power could be amassed in a ritual. They were also starting to suspect that the condemnation of such rituals had less to do with their alleged darkness and more to do with a desire to limit who had access to such power.

When the final candle was lit, nearly all the energy that had been collecting around and in the witches suddenly rushed in towards the center, travelled up through the fire, and burst out the top of the flames like a volcano, spreading waves of the witches' magical power — enhanced and multiplied by the goddesses through the ritual, according to the veela — across the canopy of the Forbidden Forest.

What energy didn't travel into the fire was absorbed back into the participants. All the Hogwarts witches felt an amazing tingling across their skin as the energy — created through the shared contributions of all those present — infused them, connecting them to their fellow witches as well as, presumably, the goddesses who were honored in the ritual. They all stared when their new amulets started glowing with power.

"These candles are charmed to last," Juliette informed them, "and they should be kept lit all through tomorrow. You may not be able to carry your candles with you all day long, but if you place your amulets under them during the day, they will absorb some more of the shared energy and become a bit stronger.

"By keeping them lit, you'll maintain a connection with the magic that we just shared with the goddesses, with each other, and with the forest around us," Juliette concluded, "May they serve as a reminder of our connectedness and the ways in which we are all dependent upon one another."

* * *

It was after 11PM before they were able to return to the castle, and a bit later than that before any of them managed to sneak back into their dorms. Despite the late hour, none of them were able to get to sleep right away — they were all much too energized by the magic of the ritual, though at the same time none of them actually felt like doing much of anything. It was a curious combination that none of them were familiar with — none except Jasmine and Hermione, who had noticed the sensations after previous rituals.

Susan and Hannah sat together behind silenced bed curtains and talked about their experiences. Padma and Daphne wrote about what happened — the former simply taking personal notes, the latter writing an urgent letter to her parents about the changes in the forest while Tracey watched and daydreamed. Jasmine and Hermione, as had become typical for them, cuddled in bed.

All of them vowed to themselves that they'd eagerly accept another invitation if it came their way. All of them also made a point of putting their amulets under their candles.

* * *

 **Thursday, June 24, 1995, Morning.**

On the morning of the final task, Jasmine stayed in bed late because she didn't have any classes that day and decided that she'd be happier continuing to cuddle with Hermione.

Lord Voldemort also stayed in bed, but not out of a desire to cuddle with anyone. No, he had once again fallen ill. He was thankful that there was no pain, but the nausea that had begun afflicting him the night before and which continued into the morning was nearly as bad.

 _Did something go wrong during the ritual to give Us this new body?_ he wondered after he finished dry-heaving into a conjured bucket. _We don't remember noticing anything wrong, but that Potter bint might have done something when We weren't looking. This is just one more thing that We'll have to pay her back for!_

* * *

Peter Pettigrew could hear his master retching in his bedroom and knew that this didn't bode well for the rest of his day. Whenever the Dark Lord was sick or in pain, he'd take it out on someone else — anyone else, just so long as he didn't appear to be weak. Unfortunately for Pettigrew, he had become one of his master's favorite targets over the past few months.

He had hoped that by seeking out his master and helping him regain a body, he'd be catapulted to the highest ranks of the Death Eaters. He thought he'd become one of the Dark Lord's most honored and trusted servants. The reality was that he was suffering more than he ever had while living as a rat among the Weasleys.

But Pettigrew wasn't stupid. He could scheme and he could plot, and he had finally come up with a way to please his master — something that the Dark Lord would definitely appreciate enough to give poor little Peter all of the honors and respect he'd been missing out on for so long. There was one thing that his master wanted, and that was Jasmine Potter. Fortunately, Pettigrew knew where Potter might be tonight. It was a long shot, because he didn't know how far along Barty had gotten in his preparations, and he couldn't exactly ask; but he was sure that it was worth trying.

 _What's the worst that could go wrong?_ he thought confidently.

* * *

 **Thursday, June 24, 1995, Afternoon.**

When Jasmine and Hermione finally came down for lunch, they were surprised at how many students — mostly witches — openly smiled at them and wished Jasmine luck. They had become used to looks of hostility, muttered insults, and even occasional hexes when their backs were turned. That was what life had become for them after Jasmine's name came out of the Goblet of Fire, and it was hardly the first year they had received such treatment at Hogwarts.

Now, though, there was scarcely a hostile expression to be seen — just a few Slytherins, but that had been normal since first year. Both girls actually found it a bit unnerving to be the targets of so much well-wishing and weren't sure how to react. A part of Jasmine wanted to snap at everyone and ask why they thought it was okay to hex her one month then smile at her the next.

Fortunately for the rest of the student body, she had been getting better at reining in her emotions — in fact, she almost never had to consciously work to calm down anymore. The anger was still there when something happened, but she found herself able to control it without lashing out at the nearest target.

Jasmine had no idea why she had gotten better, though she noticed that her improvement seemed to coincide with Beltane and eventually concluded that it was because she and Hermione were doing such a good job helping each other... relax.

In Jasmine's mind, that was another excuse to keep working on relaxation techniques with Hermione. Not that she needed one.

* * *

 **Thursday, June 24, 1995, Evening.**

"Are you ready?" Fleur asked when Jasmine joined the other three champions near the entrance to the hedge maze. Jasmine smiled and nodded, finding it oddly comforting that the French veela seemed so protective of her. _Come to think of it_ , she mused, _both Fleur and Gabrielle have seemed especially protective of me and Hermione. During the Beltane and Midsummer Eve rituals, they stayed close to the two of us and acted like they were watching for possible threats. Gabrielle in particular always seemed to be very intense. I wonder why… and when exactly did it start?_

Not wanting to get into a conversation about that now, especially in front of the current audience, she simply said, "As ready as I'll ever be." She then nodded to Viktor and Cedric, deliberately ignored Bagman, absently noted that they had finally gotten a replacement for Karkaroff (the Durmstrang headmaster having disappeared shortly after Jasmine's kidnapping), and turned around to look back at the stands were the spectators were sitting. Jasmine was surprised to note that all the witches who had attended the ritual celebration the previous evening were holding their candles — and they were sitting together, too, instead of with their respective houses.

"We were starting to get worried," Fleur said. "It's almost time to start."

Of course, it didn't take long at all for Jasmine to spot Hermione talking to Gabrielle, both of whom were also holding candles. Jasmine and Hermione had known that they wouldn't be able to get in a kiss for good luck down by the pitch, so they'd chosen to take care of that back up in the dormitory. And since it was such a private place, the quick good luck kiss had turned into a passionate snog, which had then turned into… a bit more.

"Ehh… something came up," Jasmine said noncommittally, **really** not wanting to announce what was going through her mind just then. Somehow, though, Fleur seemed to know anyway and gave her an impish smile in return.

"Well, now that we're all **finally** here," Cornelius Fudge said pompously, "we can get this task started." Jasmine hadn't heard that the Minister would be participating like this, but she guessed that with Percy under investigation, someone had to step in, and Fudge might have thought this would be a convenient opportunity for good publicity.

"Yes, yes," Bagman added. "You'll go first, Miss Potter, then in intervals of a minute it will be Mr. Krum, Mr. Diggory, and Miss Delacour. Do you all understand?" When they nodded, Bagman turned and gestured to Dumbledore, who announced the start of the third task and fired a cannon to signal that Jasmine should begin.

Jasmine jogged into the maze, impressed that the hedge walls had grown to what appeared to be ten or fifteen meters in just a month. When she arrived at the first intersection, she simply stopped and waited. Because of the magic of the maze, she couldn't be seen by the officials standing around the entrance, and she decided to spend her time wisely by casting some detection charms. After three minutes and three more cannon blasts, all four champions finally came together.

"None of our detection charms vork," Viktor told Fleur as the fourth and final champion approached. "It is probably the magic of the maze, making it more difficult for us."

"No surprise there," Cedric said. "I'm sure that these hedges have all sorts of magic in them."

"Just so long as it isn't enough magic to interfere with my spell," Jasmine said. "Stand back and be ready to move into the hole. Anything on the other side will probably be stunned, so you'll have a short window to deal with it."

The three older champions took their positions — the wizards on either side of their youngest member and Fleur a bit behind, ready to cast a shield to protect her during her most vulnerable time. Jasmine breathed deeply, centered herself, and incanted in a firm voice, " _ **Corace Corruo!**_ " A section of hedge five meters wide exploded in the direction opposite them, taking nearly a meter of dirt as well because of the roots that were pulled up and carried away.

Fleur cast " _ **Ventus!**_ " creating a surge of wind to blow the dirt and debris away from them while Cedric and Viktor took up positions on either side of the newly created gap in the hedge. Looking around the corners, both cried out almost simultaneously, "Skrewts!"

* * *

Outside in the stands, everyone was incredibly bored. The sun had already set, the remaining light was dwindling fast, and the champions would have been impossible to see even if it were high noon. "This is as bad as the second task," Susan grumbled.

"No kidding," Padma chimed in.

"Actually, it's loads better," Daphne insisted. When she received dubious looks from the others, she explained, "It's not the middle of February, and I'm not freezing my bum off!" That got a laugh from everyone around her.

The chattering among the students stopped abruptly when there was a massive explosion from somewhere near the entrance to the maze, kicking up dirt, dust, and bits of hedge. Everyone gaped at the sight — everyone, that is, except Hermione, who looked both smug and proud. The others quickly noticed and Hannah asked, "Alright, give — what do you know that we don't?"

"I know that Jasmine and the others have a plan to end this task as quickly as possible," she said.

"Quickly and violently," Neville muttered.

"Too right," Ron agreed under his breath.

While the students were trying to get Hermione to talk, the tournament officials were also wondering what had happened. _I doubt any one of the champions could accomplish something like that alone_ , Dumbledore thought. _Professor Sprout did an excellent job of breeding these hedges to be resistant to magic. That can only mean that the champions are working together again._

Dumbledore sighed, not really looking forward to judging the conclusion of a tournament in which the competitors refused to actually compete.

* * *

Back in the maze, Fleur had moved forward to help Cedric and Viktor eliminate Hagrid's skrewts. Since this was their first breach of the hedge, they didn't have to worry about anything coming up behind them, but the skrewts were tough enough that the two wizards were having trouble. It was only when Jasmine got enough of her wind back that she could tell them that the skrewts had very vulnerable undersides that the fight finally turned in their favor. Spells that simply bounced off the heavy armor were able to shred the unnatural monstrosities once they were flipped on their backs.

"Ready to try again?" Cedric asked as he wiped the sweat from his brow. Parts of his robes were singed and blackened because he'd been caught by a skrewt that had spun around like a top when it had been flipped, sending a stream of fire everywhere.

"Yeah, good to go," Jasmine replied. Once everyone was in position, she again incanted, _"_ _ **Corace Corruo!**_ _"_ Another five-meter section of hedge blew apart, and another wind spell from Fleur cleared the air. When Viktor and Cedric looked around the corners, though, they found the path was clear in both directions. The three older champions took time to clean themselves up a little more while Jasmine rested, then she cast the siege engine spell for a third time.

Some ways down this new path they saw a sphinx — a very angry looking sphinx, in fact. Yet despite all her growling and pacing, she didn't actually approach them. "Perhaps she is somehow bound to that spot and can only engage if vee go near her?" Viktor suggested. "She would not be happy to see that ve vill be able to bypass her."

"Works for me," Jasmine said between heavy breaths. Her companions watched the path they had just crossed while she recovered, then positioned themselves once more as she cast her fourth siege engine spell of the evening. This time instead of any creatures, Cedric immediately spotted the still and lifeless body of his girlfriend. "Cho!" he cried out as he ran over and dropped to his knees, trying to cradle her body. "What were you doing here? Oh, Merlin, Cho, we killed you!"

Viktor, not seeing any threats in his direction, went to assist his fellow champion. As he put a hand on Cedric's shoulder, the body in Cedric's arms started shifting and bubbling, turning into a slightly older Caucasian girl. "Yulia?" he gasped, dropping to his knees next to Cedric. "Vat are you doing here? Vhy are you…." Before he could finish the question, the body in front of them started shifting again, this time acquiring a form that was a weird mix of Asian and Caucasian features.

"Boggart!" Fleur called out as she incanted _"_ _ **Riddikulus!**_ _"_ Suddenly the oddly formed girl on the ground popped up into the air and transformed into a six-foot-tall plucked chicken that started squawking and running around madly in circles.

Jasmine turned slowly and gave Fleur a disbelieving look. "Seriously?" she mouthed.

Fleur looked slightly sheepish at first, then gave a little shrug as she fixed an unconcerned expression on her face and looked everywhere but at Jasmine.

It took a few minutes for the wizards to recover from their experience with the boggart, but after they'd banished it down the path and Jasmine was ready, she once more cast the siege engine spell, this time revealing another clear path. "It's been just over thirty minutes," Fleur announced, and the others nodded. It was taking longer than they had hoped, but Jasmine was needing increasingly more time to recover after each casting. Alone, however, they would have had even more trouble against obstacles like the skrewts.

After Jasmine cast the siege engine spell for the sixth time, the two wizards once more reported the path to be clear. It was dark, though, and they were only looking along the grassy path itself. Neither of them thought to look up; had they done so, they would have seen several large, spider-like forms making their way along the sides of the hedge walls.

It was only when one of them actually came around the corner created by the destroyed section of hedge that they were spotted. "Acromantula! Get back!" Fleur called, pointing up high. Neither Cedric nor Viktor had seen anything yet, but they had sufficient trust in Fleur to dive backwards without hesitation. That saved Viktor, because the first acromantula that had come around the corner dropped to the ground right where he had been standing.

 _"_ _ **Depulso!**_ _"_ Cedric incanted, trying to banish the spider, which looked to be as large as a Great Dane, but it only pushed the arachnid a meter or so and seemed to annoy it more than anything else.

"Use _Arania Exumai_ ," Jasmine gasped to Fleur. The French champion nodded and cast the spell, sending the acromantula flying away. The two wizards quickly started copying her, creating a large distance between the champions and the carnivorous spiders. With distance came time to plan, and the champions settled on fire spells as offering their best chance for success.

As the creatures got closer again, though, Jasmine was able to get a better view of them and noticed that something looked wrong. Instead of casting _Sphaera Ignea_ as she had intended, she incanted _"_ _ **Finite Incantatem!**_ _"_ Immediately the arachnid disappeared and the other champions looked around, confused.

"It's not really an acromantula," Jasmine explained, and pointed to a tarantula that was slowly crawling along the grass. "Someone used an engorgement charm on some regular spiders. And maybe some other charms to make them more aggressive, too."

The other champions also cast a few quick _Finite_ spells, eliminating the spider threat.

"How did you know they weren't real acromantulas?" Cedric asked.

"During second year, Ron and I ended up right in the middle of the huge acromantula nest that's deep in the Forbidden Forest," Jasmine answered. "We were looking for clues about what was attacking students in the corridors." The other champions looked at her like she was crazy while she finished resting.

When everyone was ready, Jasmine cast the siege engine spell for the seventh time, revealing, not another path, but the center of the maze and the trophy, gleaming on a raised table.

"Finally!" Jasmine gasped as the other three champions looked around for possible threats. As a group they all stepped up to the trophy, and as they had agreed weeks ago, they grabbed it at the same time. Each felt a sharp tug behind their navels as the portkey activated. When they stopped spinning, Jasmine landed badly — very badly, in fact, and she was sure she heard a snap when her ankle twisted.

She cried out, clutching at her ankle. Once Cedric helped her up, she realized why the others hadn't said anything, and why she hadn't heard anyone else. They were alone — and instead of standing in front of the judges, they were looking around a very familiar graveyard.

"Bloody buggering shite!" Jasmine exclaimed. "This is the place where the Death Eaters tortured me!"

"Wands out, d'you reckon?" asked Cedric.

"Most definitely," Viktor answered as the three uninjured champions stood facing outward, wands at the ready and looking for threats. A crack of apparition announced an incoming visitor, and Jasmine instantly recognized the form that appeared before them.

 _"_ **Wormtail!** _"_ she hissed.

 _"_ _ **Avada Kedavra!**_ _"_ the dumpy traitor responded, panicked at finding four people in the graveyard instead of just one.

Without even thinking, Jasmine dove for the ground and pulled Cedric down with her. Lucky for him, the killing curse sailed right over them through the space he had previously occupied. Unlucky for her, she pulled Cedric down on her injured ankle. " **Argh!** " she cried out again as Viktor and Fleur started casting curses at Pettigrew.

Fleur was especially vicious in her spell choices. She remembered who Wormtail was, both from Jasmine's stories about her godfather and her explanation of what had happened to her in the graveyard. Then she saw the killing curse barely miss both Cedric and Jasmine, and she no longer worried about holding back. Had anyone taken the time to look, they'd have noticed a thin, downy coating of tiny feathers sprout along her arms and on the back of her neck.

Pettigrew was no match for either champion alone, never mind both at the same time, and they didn't give him any chance to transform, flee, or fight back. In short order he was on the ground, tied up in magical ropes and moaning from the pain of multiple broken bones, scorched skin, and other injuries. A quick stunner from Jasmine quieted him while they all looked around for more threats.

When nothing appeared, their concern turned towards getting back to Hogwarts. "We should probably use the Knight Bus, like Jasmine did before, but I think we'll have to levitate her — it's too far for her to walk on that ankle."

"Vee vill have to levitate this traitor, too," Viktor said, kicking Wormtail in the side and eliciting a moan.

"He's awake already?" Jasmine asked, still leaning against Cedric for support. "Pick him up — I want to say something to him."

"Jasmine, I don't think…." Cedric didn't get a chance to finish that thought as Jasmine said dangerously, "Pick. Him. Up!" She'd been doing wonderfully in controlling her anger since Beltane, but everyone has a breaking point, after all.

Viktor and Fleur obliged, grabbing the dumpy animagus by his armpits and lifting him up enough for Jasmine to look him in the eye. Not caring that he was still half-stunned, Jasmine grabbed him by the front of his shirt and started to berate him.

Looking around, Viktor asked, "Vhere is the trophy? Vee had better take that, too."

Cedric and Fleur couldn't see it either, so Cedric incanted, " _Accio_ trophy!" The trophy came flying out of the darkness and into Cedric's outstretched hand. The portkey immediately activated, pulling Cedric away. And Jasmine, whom he was holding. And Wormtail, whom **she** was holding. Viktor and Fleur, holding on to Wormtail, brought up the rear.

Everyone landed in a heap in front of the judges' table at Hogwarts. Viktor and Fleur promptly threw up because it had been the worst, most dizzying portkey trip of their lives. Jasmine screamed out in pain because Wormtail landed on her already twice-injured ankle.

All of the judges started speaking at once, and what little Jasmine could discern indicated that they wanted to know what had taken them so long. Evidently, the alert for the trophy portkey being activated had sounded almost ten minutes earlier.

"Silence!" Dumbledore thundered, causing everyone to grow quiet. Before he could continue, however, an owl dove in and landed on Jasmine's shoulder. Everyone watched with curiosity as Jasmine cast several detection charms and, finding nothing dangerous, took the official-looking message and began to read.

"Well?" Dumbledore asked expectantly.

"Huh," said Jasmine flatly. "According to some witch named Hopkirk, I've been expelled from Hogwarts for using magic outside of school."

"I'll take that," came a woman's voice, and when she looked up, Jasmine saw Madam Bones with an outstretched hand. Jasmine handed the letter over, noticing that Minister Fudge was with her.

"Perhaps someone could explain what the devil is going on here?" Fudge demanded.

Before anyone could answer, Hermione rushed in and grabbed Jasmine's arm. It was clear to the green-eyed witch that what Hermione had really wanted was to launch herself into a hug, but dared not because of the audience. Over Hermione's shoulder, Jasmine could see all of their friends standing around nervously, unsure about what to do.

Fleur nudged Cedric, who then cleared his throat and gave a quick summary of events since picking up the portkey. Once he got to the identity of the bound man at their feet, Fudge interrupted, "Now see here…."

A growl from Jasmine stopped the Minister's incipient rant. "Explain this, then!" She gingerly knelt down next to Pettigrew and pulled back both of his sleeves, revealing the Dark Mark on one arm and a silver hand attached to the other.

"Well, Minister?" Jasmine asked angrily.

Before Fudge could start up again, Madam Bones announced that whoever the bound man might be, he had been captured after allegedly casting an unforgivable, and her department had an obligation to investigate. "We'll soon know exactly who he is and what he has been doing," Bones concluded, giving Fudge a look even he couldn't misunderstand.

Dumbledore quickly inserted himself, asking, "It looks like working together served you all well, but what made you decide to do it again?"

"During the second task, we discovered how important it is to work together as a team," Cedric said. "Since we haven't been given any more reason to trust you than we had before, we decided to play it safe."

"Ja," Viktor added, "and vee also discovered that it was much more enjoyable and made the victory much sweeter."

"Besides," Jasmine said as she kicked Pettigrew in the arm that had the Dark Mark, "there are dark wizards out there that want to hurt us, and we'll only defeat them if we are united." She then gave Fudge a pointed look as she continued, "Squabbling about personal power will only make it easier for them to take over in the end."

Fudge glowered first at her, then at Dumbledore, then at Bones before shoving his green bowler hat on his head and storming off. Bones just shook her head and called over two aurors to take the prisoner away.

"Madam Bones?" Jasmine asked, "Can you promise that Pettigrew will be questioned, not thrown in a hole somewhere and forgotten, and that if his answers are what I expect, my godfather will get justice?"

Madam Bones smiled at her and replied, "I can promise that I will do my best to see that justice is done. I can't make any promises about how long it will take because I'm sure this will ruffle more than a few feathers, but I will pursue justice wherever it leads."

"Thank you," Jasmine said. "I don't suppose there's anything you can tell me about the investigation into what happened to me at the graveyard? The first time, I mean?"

Madam Bones' expression grew dark as she said, "Not as much as I'd like, unfortunately. The place was pretty well cleaned up when we got there, so we weren't able to find any physical evidence except for a wand registered to Peter Yaxley and some burned bits of… well, probably Yaxley. We haven't been able to track him down, at any rate." Jasmine looked a bit green at hearing that. "Lucius Malfoy has been unavailable, and we can no longer find his manor. What's worse, because of the lack of movement in the case so far, Fudge has been pressuring me to shut the investigation down."

"Can he do that?" Jasmine asked, agast.

"He can pressure me, yes," Madam Bones responded, "but he can't order it, thank Merlin. I suspect that that's one of the reasons the man you captured has upset him so much: it's actually the best evidence supporting your story that we've found. It not only reignites our investigation, but allows me to more easily push the investigation into what happened to your godfather, something I know Fudge will hate."

Jasmine smiled gratefully. "Thank you again, Madam Bones. If there's anything I can do, just let me know."

"Keep yourself available tomorrow. In fact, all of you should," Bones told the champions, "Aurors will come by to get official statements from all of you."

While Pettigrew was being dragged off, Dumbledore had consulted the remaining judges on how to score this final phase of the tournament. Now he announced to the spectators that the Triwizard Tournament had ended in a four-way tie, with all three schools sharing the victory together. All of the students cheered, and most didn't seem to be surprised that their champions had chosen to work together.

When Dumbledore turned back, he found that the students he'd wanted to talk to were already halfway back to the castle. He chuckled when he saw Jasmine Potter being levitated along by one of her friends and Miss Potter herself complaining loudly about it.

* * *

 **Thursday, June 24, 1995, Evening.**

After Jasmine had been healed by Madam Pomfrey — and then had to spend another ten minutes convincing the Healer that she didn't need to stay overnight in the hospital wing — she and Hermione curled up together in Jasmine's bed. Like the last time they were in a similar position, Hermione said, "I won't ask you to tell me what happened, especially since I assume I got most of it from listening to Cedric; but I hope you'll tell me yourself later?"

It wasn't that she needed more information, though that was a plus. Rather, Hermione wanted to make sure that Jasmine eventually opened up to someone instead of keeping it all bottled up inside.

"Yeah," Jasmine said tiredly. "Maybe tomorrow."

* * *

Minerva McGonagall sat in her darkened living quarters, nursing a glass of firewhiskey while reflecting on the ups and downs of the past few days.

The previous day had been spectacular. She'd been invited to participate in a ritual holiday celebration, the first time that had happened since she'd been a wee girl. What was more, the invitation had come from two of her favorite students. _I'd have expected them to only invite their peers, but they had wanted to invite me first and foremost. Me!_ she thought with a warm glow that had nothing to do with the firewhiskey. _Apparently I've been having a much greater impact on them than I'd realized._

 _And it was a fantastic celebration, too. I never had any idea that veela holiday rituals could be so engaging, so interesting, so... powerful. Yes, very powerful indeed. I wonder how much of it was due to the participation of my two lionesses?_

Today, though, hadn't been nearly so wonderful. _It was all I could do not to pace and fret after Jasmine entered that maze_ , she thought, _but I didn't want to let on just how much I've come to favor her. And then we learned that the champions were all missing…. Albus was lucky that they appeared before I could curse him. And even luckier that I didn't curse him anyway once it turned out that they'd been taken back to that blasted graveyard where Pettigrew almost killed her!_

"I think this might be why I made that decision so long ago never to have kids of my own," she said to the empty room as she tossed back the rest of her drink.


	60. School's Out

**A/N:** This is it: the last chapter of fourth year! It's not the end, though, because the story continues in a separate fic: "Heart and Soul."

 **Recommendation:** This chapter's recommended fic is "No Thanks" by old-crow. On the platform after fifth year, Harry makes an unexpected decision and says something to his relatives which changes his life forever — and Hermione's, too. H/Hr.

* * *

 **Chapter 60 - School's Out**

 **Friday, June 25, 1995. Afternoon.**

Dolores Umbridge quietly sighed as she entered Cornelius Fudge's office and saw that he was already sipping from a glass of firewhiskey. _Poor man_ , she thought. _If others haven't noticed yet that he's drinking more, they soon will, and then where will the Ministry be? We can't rule effectively without a strong, resolute person in command, and right now Minister Fudge is failing in that area. We need to revive his confidence somehow._

"Cornelius," she said gently, startling him out of his own thoughts. "I'm here for our meeting."

"Yes, yes," he replied absentmindedly and gestured towards the chair on the other side of his desk.

"What is it, Cornelius?" she asked when she sat down. "What has you so distracted?"

"You can tell?" the Minister asked, sounding surprised. He sighed, then said, "It's all of these investigations that Amelia is conducting into what supposedly happened to Jasmine Potter."

Umbridge frowned. "I thought that there wasn't enough evidence to pursue?"

Fudge shook his head. "Apparently there was a bit more evidence in the graveyard than I realized. More than that, though, the appearance of Peter Pettigrew not only reignited that investigation, but also started a new one into what happened to Sirius Black — his original arrest, the lack of a trial, my order to have him kissed on sight…." He sighed again and added, "I just don't know what we're going to do."

Umbridge frowned more deeply, a look that definitely didn't suit her. "It sounds awfully suspicious to me that just as the investigation into the graveyard is petering out, Miss Potter conveniently gets sent back there and happens across someone who not only seems to support her original story, but causes yet another investigation to be launched — and one that is even more obviously aimed at you."

"Aimed at me?" Fudge asked nervously.

"Obviously," Umbridge stated. "The first was clearly designed to undermine confidence in the Ministry — and thus you, by extension — with tales about dark wizards attacking children. It wasn't very subtle, given how easily you and I have been able to see through it." Fudge started nodding at her words. "When you didn't give in, someone concocted a second investigation aimed at undermining the Ministry, but this one targets you even more directly because of your involvement in trying to bring that murdering criminal Black to justice."

"Yes, yes," Fudge agreed. "At first I thought that it was all aimed at the Ministry, but when more evidence and problems came up, I started assuming that maybe there was some substance to…."

"Not at all," Umbridge assured him. "Your first reaction was the right one: this is all a plot against you, the rightful leader of Magical Britain. The only reason for such a plot is if people want to overthrow you."

"A coup!" Fudge exclaimed. "But who would be behind it? Certainly not the Potter witch — no one that age is looking for political power."

"That just happens to be something I wanted to talk to you about today," Umbridge responded. "I've been hearing rumors that Headmaster Dumbledore has been telling people that You-Know-Who did indeed come back at the graveyard. He's using the story to recruit followers."

"So… he's the one behind it all!" Fudge concluded.

"Exactly," Umbridge agreed. "Though Potter is surely in on it — there's no way she couldn't be, since all of the stories revolve around her."

Fudge nodded sagely. "That makes sense. He must be expecting to rely on her fame to smooth over any objections when he finally tries to take over."

"Which means we'll need to find some way of undermining them before they undermine us," Umbridge suggested.

"Do you have any ideas? Fudge asked.

Umbridge smiled broadly, a look that suited her even less than her frown. "As a matter of fact, I do," she said sweetly. She then outlined her plan — the parts she wanted him to know about, at any rate. She was sure that guided stories in the _Daily Prophet_ wouldn't be enough, not even when she added in meddling with the DMLE, but she hoped that a more radical idea of hers would solve the problem one way or another. It just wouldn't be possible to initiate it for another month at least, and she wasn't confident that Cornelius would be comfortable knowing about it.

* * *

 **Friday, June 25, 1995. Evening.**

"Wormtail!" Voldemort called out for the third time. The rat may not have been the most reliable of servants when it came to complex tasks, but he was always there, at least. It was one of the things that made him such a convenient target for curses when Voldemort was in a rage.

Instead of calling out to him again, he rang the small bell that he kept on the table beside his throne. In a moment Narcissa Malfoy came scurrying in, her head bowed low so she wouldn't be presumptuous enough to look her master in the eye. "Yes, my Lord?" she asked.

"Where is Wormtail?" he asked in a low, menacing voice.

"I... I don't know, my Lord," Narcissa stammered. "I don't think I've seen him since late yesterday."

 _"_ _ **Crucio!**_ _"_ Voldemort said, setting the blonde witch to writhing and screaming on the floor.

After several seconds of this he cancelled the curse and watched her twitch and cry for a about a minute before saying, "Well? Why are you still here? Why aren't you out there looking for him?"

She struggled to her hands and knees and crawled for the doors as quickly as she could. "The next time We see you, you'd better have him," he said before she disappeared into the outer chamber.

Voldemort smiled. She'd blame Wormtail for her suffering and take it out on him. Then, if she hurt him too badly, he'd just punish her for it.

* * *

 **Saturday, June 26, 1995, Morning.**

The four joint champions of the Triwizard Tournament, accompanied by Hermione, Neville, Ron, and Ginny, all stood together and watched as Hagrid finished ripping up the giant hedges that had formed the maze which they had recently fought their way through. This was a day that they had been looking forward to ever since Bagman had first showed them how the tournament organizers were desecrating their beloved Quidditch pitch for the sake of the competition.

"Satisfied now, are ye?" Hagrid asked jovially. He may not have shared their distress, but he understood it, which was why he'd invited them to witness the restoration of the grounds that morning.

"Very much so — thank you, Hagrid," Cedric answered gravely. Jasmine couldn't talk because she was too overcome with emotion; Hermione just rolled her eyes.

"I'd a invited ye yesterday, but tha' was when we cleared out all the wee beasties," Hagrid said. He looked at them with a glint in his eye as he continued, "I'll be' ye all had a lot a fun with 'em, yeah?"

"Fun?" Viktor asked with a scowl. "I vould hardly call them fun."

"Waddaya mean?" Hagrid asked, sounding very confused. "They was all mighty excited ta play their role! It was just a shame tha' I couldna find Aragog."

"Aragog?" Ron squeaked out. "You went looking for that monster?"

"'E ain' no monster," Hagrid responded, sounding offended. "I raised 'im from a little pup, I did. I had hoped tha' he'd let me borrow a few a his kids for the maze, but I couldna find hide nor hair of any of 'em anywhere in the forest."

Jasmine and Hermione gave each other a curious look; Fleur steadfastly avoided eye contact.

"So what did you do?" Ron asked, clearly not sure if he really wanted to know.

"When I told Dumbledore," Hagrid explained, "he said not ta worry and used a couple a spells to make some regular spiders a lot bigger and a little more excitable. Great man, Dumbledore is."

"A little more excitable?" Cedric asked, horrified. "They tried to eat us!"

"Nah, they wouldna a done tha'," Hagrid insisted. "They was just happy ta see ya is all."

All the students now regarded Hagrid with looks of mingled disbelief and horror.

"Well, I gotta get back ta work," Hagrid finally said, then walked back into the pitch to organize the removal of the last of the hedges.

"Mental, he is," Ron said softly. "Completely mental!"

* * *

 **Saturday, June 26, 1995, Afternoon.**

"Greengrass!" came a snide voice that Daphne had been happy to be free of for the past three months. She slipped her wand into her hand as she turned but kept the move hidden by Tracey, who did the same. Blaise, who was on the other side of the room, looked unconcerned, but Daphne knew that he'd already palmed his wand as well.

"What do you want, ferret?" she asked coldly.

Draco's face went bright red at the use of that hated nickname. "How dare you! You'd better learn to be respectful of your betters, Greengrass, or else..."

"Or else what, ferret?" she interrupted. Others in the common room were taking an interest in their conversation, with many moving out of the way in case spells were cast. "And what betters? You were neutered when Potter beat the snot out of you, remember? I remember, because I was there. I saw you cry. She didn't even need magic to beat you. An ickle girl beat up the big, bad dragon with her tiny girl-fists, and you had to spend more than a day in the hospital getting magically healed from mundane injuries."

Draco's face was turning purple as he practically vibrated with rage. "I've been watching you, Greengrass. I've seen you spend time with blood traitors and unworthy filth outside of Slytherin."

"It's called making contacts," Tracey said. "It's something that clever, ambitious people do in order to cultivate useful relationships for the future."

"Blood traitors and mudbloods are useful for nothing more than cleaning our feet!" Malfoy ground out through clenched teeth. "I was going to give you a chance to reform and abandon your indecent ways, but you can forget about it now. You've condemned yourself and your entire family, Greengrass. You, too, Davis. You'll all be counted as enemies of the Dark Lord. When I tell my father…."

"Oh, is he still alive?" Daphne asked with mock curiosity. "Is he still in one piece, too? I hope he won't be meeting you at the train in London — he might scare all the little firsties."

"Why, you—" Draco tried to draw his wand, but he was no match for two witches who had already drawn. Three quick banishing charms sent Draco, Crabbe, and Goyle crashing into the wall. Daphne looked over to the side and noticed that Pansy Parkinson hadn't gotten involved this time, which was unusual for her. She also appeared to be scared and a bit ragged around the edges, as if she weren't sleeping well.

"Tracey," Daphne said quietly, "I'm going to write another letter to my parents. While I'm doing that, see what you can learn from Parkinson." With a nod, Tracey headed for the other Slytherin witch while Daphne started to mentally compose her next letter. At a bare minimum, she needed to warn them: Malfoy may have been nine-tenths bluster, but that one-tenth usually contained a grain of solid information.

* * *

 **Saturday, June 26, 1995. Evening.**

"Mother!" Sirius shouted as he walked out of the kitchen. "I finally got—"

"Sirius!" Walburga interrupted. "A bit of decorum! You're not five anymore, and you're not a barbarian." She took a deep breath and sighed, "At least, you're not supposed to be. I don't expect you to walk around stiff and emotionless, but you want to set a good example for your goddaughter, don't you?" Sirius squirmed at that. "Eventually she'll be moving in the most powerful circles of our society. If she doesn't learn how to comport herself with at least a bit of dignity and refinement, she'll fail before she even starts."

Sirius narrowed his eyes, wondering if maybe he had finally gotten a clue about one of the unstated motives behind the list of tasks he'd had to get done before letting Dumbledore move in. "You're right, Mother," he said carefully. "I'm not used to it myself, so it's easy to fall back into old habits. I'll try to do better in the future."

Walburga nodded once, then said. "Now, what was it that was so important?"

Sirius smiled and held up some parchment. "I finally got a letter from Jasmine about how she did on the third task."

"Finally!" Walburga said in what looked to be a genuine show of emotion, and Sirius noted that she seemed surprisingly eager to get this news. For whatever reason, nothing said in Dumbledore's office had been very enlightening: it was as if all the champions had won, which just didn't make any sense. "Did she explain why she took so long?"

"I'll give you a hint," Sirius said, holding up some more parchment. "Her letter is accompanied by a copy of an auror's interview with her."

"What?" Walburga exclaimed. "Tell me everything!"

Sirius read the letter first, in which Jasmine explained that she was alright now, having only sustained a minor ankle injury. Instead of writing out what happened, though, she had the clever idea of asking the auror who interviewed her about events for a copy of his report — it was, after all, mostly a dicta-quill recording of her recounting her story. Since the auror agreed, she was passing it along.

This didn't do much to sate Walburga's curiosity, and Sirius completely missed Kreacher peeking from around the corner, anxious to hear about what had happened. So Sirius told Jasmine's story, just as if she were there telling it herself. He even tried to mimic her, though his throat did a horrible job at imitating the voice of a teen girl.

In the end, both Walburga and Kreacher were exhausted just listening to the tale. After a bit of reflection, she said, "Sirius, I notice that she didn't explain how she and the other champions destroyed the hedges so they could move through them."

Sirius smiled and said, "Yeah, I noticed that too. I think she used the siege engine spell. I gave the two of them several powerful spells to learn, but that one Hermione managed to piece together on her own from references in old history books. One of their letters said that they'd gotten pretty good with it, though Hermione was better and enjoyed it more."

Walburga's eyes widened at this news. "That's a very powerful spell, Sirius. For two fourth year witches to use it…. Are you sure they were being completely honest?"

"Absolutely," Sirius said with conviction. "I don't think that either of those witches has ever exaggerated or shaded the truth with me. Granted, I don't exactly have years of experience with them, but they really don't strike me as the type — and I'd know, since I **am** that type."

Walburga grimaced slightly. "Yes, that's certainly true. Well, if they are able to cast that spell — and repeatedly, it sounds — then they are exceptionally powerful young witches. What other spells did you pass along to them?" When Sirius told her, she said, "Some of those spells are a bit darker than I'd ever expect you to endorse."

"They weren't truly dark," Sirius said, waving his hand dismissively. "Grey. Darkish. But not genuinely Dark Magic. I wouldn't have even gone that far, though, if it weren't for the fact that both of those girls have had to fight for their lives multiple times since starting at Hogwarts. I thought that they deserved a fighting chance, and if that means learning some darker, unpleasant spells, so be it."

Walburga nodded in approval. "I wasn't criticizing, I was just surprised. It's obvious that you made the right choice — not only to help them with such spells, but also your decisions about which spells to pass along. I'm impressed, quite frankly; but I'd recommend against letting them grow complacent. Not only is a large spell repertoire a good idea generally, but now that they have fought enemies, their actions will be easier to predict if they keep using the spells over and over. They need to avoid that."

"Got it," Sirius said with a nod. "Find more spells that aren't too extreme and which they can add to their arsenal."

"When do you think they'll arrive?" she asked.

"Soon, I hope," Sirius said with a grin. "Dumbledore insisted that she at least start the summer at her relatives', but I'm hoping to get her out of there in a week or two."

Walburga nodded absently, no longer really listening. She had much to think about.

* * *

 **Sunday, June 27, 1995. Evening.**

Voldemort looked down with disappointment at the blonde witch writhing in pain on the floor. "You've had two days, Narcissa," he said as he cancelled the curse — not that she was in any shape to process his words right now. " **Two days** , and you've brought Us nothing."

" **Nothing!** " he shouted as he reapplied the torture curse to the sobbing pureblood witch below him. After a minute he released her again, then stormed to the other side of his throne room. He wrenched open the door and pulled the guard inside, where he yanked up his sleeve and pushed his magic into the Death Eater's Dark Mark to call Wormtail.

There had been a time when he would have done that first, but his magic hadn't felt entirely right since... well, maybe since he gained his new body, but he couldn't be sure. Regardless, he had to be careful how he used his magic, but this situation had reached the point where it was definitely worth the risk. Wormtail had been missing for three days now, and that wasn't like him at all.

The guard began screaming in pain after a minute. When he'd created the Dark Mark, he had ensured that it would hurt when he used it, just to be sure that his servants always knew their place. He had wanted the mark itself to drive home the importance of obedience to their master; right now the guard sounded like he might rupture his larynx in his eagerness to obey.

It was music to his ears.

He cancelled the connection before the man reached that point, however. If that call hadn't been enough to bring Wormtail to him, more wouldn't help, and he needed to conserve his strength.

"Leave Us!" he commanded to the whimpering witch and half-conscious guard, wrinkling his nose when he realized that she'd soiled herself while he'd been using the guard's Mark. "And clean yourself up, witch! Have you no self-respect? No dignity?" She just whimpered a bit more as she crawled out of the throne room.

Voldemort sighed as he sat back down on his throne. Without Wormtail around he'd have to find someone else to keep close for menial jobs and occasional recreational cursing. _So far, Narcissa has lovely screams_ , he thought. _She just needs to build up a bit more stamina like Wormtail. We'll have to give her the Dark Mark, too._

* * *

 **Monday, June 28, Morning.**

Earchewer was just taking his first sip of chojo when the door to his office suddenly burst open, causing him to spill his blistering hot drink all over the front of his expensive suit. "What in the name of…! Who…?" The Senior Branch Supervisor's sputtering was brought to an abrupt halt when he saw the phalanx of guards that had just entered, accompanied by—

"Council Member Sharpaxe!" he cried. Struggling to his feet, he rushed over and gave the older goblin a deep, if slightly soggy, bow. "You honor me with your presence, Council Member!" All goblin warriors and bankers had the greatest respect for Sharpaxe: as the lone male goblin on the Bet Bel, they looked up to him as representing their interests.

"Actually, it's War Chief now," the other goblin stated in a gravelly voice. When Earchewer gasped, he continued, "Yes, I know, title changes are such a pain. I'm going to need all new business cards now!"

He frowned when Earchewer just stood there and gaped at him, then he clapped the goblin on the shoulder and said, "Come on, you can laugh — that was funny! Just because you're a banker doesn't mean you had your sense of humor surgically extracted, does it?"

Sharpaxe turned and signalled for the guards to leave. He then sat in the visitor's chair in front of the Senior Branch Supervisor's desk while Earchewer came back to himself and scrambled to get into his own chair. "War Chief?" he asked. "Does that mean we're…? But with whom?"

Sharpaxe shook his head. "No, we're not at war. I know it's a breach of tradition to name a War Chief without declaring war and assembling the Horde, but we're living in unusual times, and the Council has decided that unusual steps need to be taken."

"This isn't a surprise inspection or a social call, I take it?" Earchewer asked.

Sharpaxe smiled grimly as he leaned forward on the desk. "No, it's not. And it's not a short visit, either. I'll be here for the duration, I think."

"The duration of what?" Earchewer asked, looking confused.

Sharpaxe shrugged as he absently played with his eyepatch. "That remains to be seen."

"Er..." Earchewer said helplessly, then finally gave up. "I'm afraid I don't understand."

Sharpaxe inclined his head sympathetically. "And I'm afraid I'm just going to have to keep you in the dark about some things. There's a lot of pertinent information that the Council has designated Code Violet, which you aren't cleared for."

Earchewer nodded, understanding that of course he wouldn't be brought in on everything — he was only a Senior Branch Supervisor, after all. "What can I do to help?" he asked instead.

"To start with, I need every new bit of information you have on these two witches," Sharpaxe said as he pulled a file from his satchel and tossed it on the desk. When Earchewer opened it, he saw two names he never would have expected to see in a conversation like this: Jasmine Potter and Hermione Granger.

Then Earchewer remembered back to when he was sending in his last report, and how he had thought that by now this would be on someone else's list of things to deal with. Somehow, it had managed to find its way back to his office and had shoved its way right to the top of **his** list.

"And then," Sharpaxe continued, "I want every new bit of information you have on any veela moving about on this island. Every resource at your disposal is to be tapped for this. Hold nothing back. Once you've started on them, I'll want to review all aspects of our forces here — equipment, training, strength, defense plans, evacuation plans, everything."

* * *

 **Friday, July 2, 1995, Evening.**

Albus Dumbledore looked out over all the students attending the Leaving Feast — not only the ones from his beloved Hogwarts, but also the best and brightest from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang. As his eyes wandered across the Great Hall, he pondered the state of readiness of his new resistance movement against Tom Riddle.

He'd applied new security measures at Privet Drive, so once the Girl Who Lived was safely behind and charging the blood wards, she'd be as safe as magic could make her. And even then, he'd assign guards to watch over her, just to be sure. She hadn't been happy when he'd told her that she needed to go back there because that's where she'd be safest, but eventually she'd accepted the necessity. Barely.

Some basic wards had been added around the Granger house, too. He couldn't do much for her because there wasn't enough ambient magic in the muggle area to keep stronger wards charged, but they'd have to do. _Hopefully the girl will have enough sense to keep her head down this summer_ , he thought. _Maybe I'll send by an Order member now and then, just to check._

Sirius had already notified him that he was back and getting a house in London ready. Dumbledore had offered to help, but Sirius declined, saying that too much in the house was keyed to Black family blood, which meant that only he could deal with it safely. Dumbledore was aware of many other families that had similar security measures in their homes, so he had accepted the excuse at face value. The one bit of help Sirius did require was a place for Buckbeak the hippogriff to go. Apparently they hadn't been parted since Sirius' escape from the castle, and since he'd grown fond of the creature, he wanted somewhere it could be safe.

 _Hopefully by the end of the summer we'll be able to allow Miss Potter to stay there — just for a couple of days before school starts_ , he mused. _The main obstacle will be getting Sirius to see reason and accept that his goddaughter is safest behind her family's blood wards. Everyone knows that you're safest with family, and Miss Potter is very lucky to have had blood relatives who took her in and have protected her._

Looking to his side, he noted that Severus still hadn't come back from his most recent summons to Voldemort. Wherever he was hiding out, it must have been put under impressive security, because Severus was unable to utter the name of the place or even its general geographic location. He could, however, report that Tom wasn't doing very well. He might not want to show weakness to his servants, but he couldn't afford to hide anything from his Potions Master — not if he wanted to be cured.

So far, Severus had been unable to treat the pain, the nausea, or the weakened magic. He was afraid that continued failure would lead to his own torture or execution. _Unfortunately_ , Dumbledore lamented, _I've been unable to offer any ideas that would explain what is going on. Based on his description of the symptoms, I can't think of a single possible cause. And because of the oaths Severus is under, we can't use this as an opportunity to poison or kill him — not that that would really work,_ he concluded with a twinge of regret.

As expected, Voldemort was moving slowly and carefully. On the one hand, that gave Dumbledore and his allies more time to prepare. On the other hand, it meant that few were willing to believe that Tom was back. Sometimes, he wasn't sure whether it was a situation he should be glad of or not.

Dumbledore sighed as he tapped his glass with his spoon and stood up to give his final speech for the year. Things were not going nearly as well as he'd like, but he thought he might be regaining some measure of control over at least some events and situations. _Only time will tell, though, if that control is but an illusion._

* * *

 **Saturday, July 3, 1995, Morning.**

Jasmine went up on her toes and craned her neck, trying to find Fleur in the large crowd of Durmstrang and Beauxbatons students that were saying goodbye to the friends they had made at Hogwarts over the past year. "Can you see her?" she asked.

"No," Hermione said. "Wait, there she is!" Jasmine turned her head in the direction her girlfriend was pointing and saw not only Fleur, but also her sister, mother, and the other veela witch who had apparently been training the two younger Delacours. Jasmine and Hermione immediately wove their way through the crowd of students and greeted their French friends with warm hugs.

To their surprise, Apolline and Adrienne hugged them both as well, reminding the two Gryffindor witches that they were looked upon as family by at least some of the veela.

"We are sad to be leaving — leaving you, zat eez," Fleur said.

"But we do not intend to be very far," Gabrielle continued.

Apolline handed a small piece of parchment to each of the two English witches. "This is our address in France. The second address there is contact information for Adrienne. If you need anything, just let one of us know."

"Thank you!" both girls said together.

Adrienne looked back at a noise, then said, "The carriage is being loaded now. We have to get going."

Everyone hugged again to say goodbye before parting. As they watched their friends make their way towards the carriage, Jasmine said, "I'm going to miss them more than I thought I would."

"Me, too," Hermione agreed.

Just then, Viktor Krum came up behind them and pulled them into a bear hug. Both witches squealed, which seemed to amuse the big Bulgarian, but once they recovered, they returned the hug. "You vill both send owls, yes?" he asked.

"Of course, Viktor," Hermione responded. She then leaned in close and whispered, "Do you know yet when the wedding will be?"

"No," Viktor said as he shook his head. "Not until I graduate, I think. But maybe you two can come to visit some time and meet Yulia. I think she vould like you both."

"I don't know about this summer, Viktor," Jasmine said, "but soon, definitely."

"Good," Viktor replied with a broad smile. "I must go now. The oldest students are in charge of sailing the ship home." He bowed to both of them and strode off towards the lake.

"Let's get back to the dorm," Hermione said to Jasmine. "You still haven't finished packing, even though I told you to last night." Jasmine just groaned, not wanting to resume their eternal argument over packing, and turned to follow her girlfriend.

* * *

 **Saturday, July 3, 1995, Evening.**

Jasmine frowned as she and Hermione pulled their trunks down out of the Hogwarts Express. In the past she'd gotten more and more dejected the closer they got to London. This year was worse than ever: not only was Jasmine being forced to spend the summer in a house with people who hated her, but she was going to be separated from her girlfriend. Her first girlfriend, who was also her best friend.

"You still haven't heard how long you'll have to stay there before you can leave?" Hermione asked.

"No," Jasmine growled, still more than a bit upset that Dumbledore had insisted she return to her relatives. Unfortunately, she had been unable to counter his argument that the protections provided by the wards at Privet Drive were more necessary now than ever before — and, what's more, that those wards needed to be recharged by her presence in order to preserve them in the future.

"Don't worry about it too much, Jas," Hermione said as she put her hand on the auburn-haired witch's shoulder. "However long you have to stay there, we'll keep in close contact. I can write, I can phone, and I'll figure out a way to come visit. Maybe you can come visit me, too."

Jasmine gave her a half-hearted smile as she said, "Do you think your parents will be OK with that? I thought you hadn't written them to ask."

"I've got a plan," Hermione said with a sly smile as the two of them hefted their trunks onto luggage trolleys. "Just be sure to be yourself when you meet them in the station."

"M-m-m-meet them? Here? Now?" Jasmine said, looking around nervously as if she expected angry parents to start popping up everywhere, asking embarrassing questions about what she was doing with their daughter.

"Not right here!" Hermione said with a laugh. "Out in King's Cross. I did write them, but I told them to be sure to meet me in the station so I could introduce them to my friends. Usually they have to keep circling the streets because there's nowhere to park, and I have to wait by the side of the road until they come by again."

"There's no parking around here?" Jasmine asked in surprise.

"Not much — it's awful," Hermione said as they pushed their trolleys along. "There's a car park over at St. Pancras Station, but it's always full. I expect they had to get up quite early so they could find street parking, and I shudder to think how long they've been forced to wait." Jasmine frowned at hearing that, wondering if that was one reason Vernon was always in such a foul mood whenever he picked her up for the summer.

When the two witches reached the barrier, they turned to wave and shout goodbye to all of their friends. The Weasleys were all gathered together in a large red bunch, boisterous as ever. When Mrs. Weasley looked over, however, Jasmine noticed that her expression darkened a bit before she looked away. _I'll bet she's still mad about my letter_ , Jasmine thought.

Neville was talking with his grandmother, who didn't seem very happy and didn't even glance at them. Daphne and Tracey were with two adults who looked like they must have been Daphne's parents, and Jasmine was surprised to see both of the adults give her a polite nod. A little farther along she saw an incredibly beautiful woman fussing over Blaise and guessed that it was his mother. Jasmine had to grin when he saw how annoyed Blaise was getting over the woman's attentions.

Padma and Parvati were obviously with their parents, and Jasmine wondered if her eyes were playing tricks on her, because she would swear that the twins no longer looked entirely identical. She hadn't noticed it before, but this was the first time in quite a while that she'd seen them side-by-side. _I guess they went through different growths this year_ , she concluded. It wasn't a surprise, really. She'd also grown quite a bit over the past year — enough that she'd had to use magic to alter some of her clothing just so it would fit. Hermione had complained about the same thing more than once, too.

Susan and Hannah were with Madam Bones, who gave a wave in greeting, then looked around quickly and came over to them. She moved her wand around the three of them in a complex pattern and said, "That was a privacy spell — I don't want anyone else to hear what I'm going to tell you."

"Is it about what happened to me?" Jasmine asked, "Or maybe my godfather?"

Amelia sighed and said, "Yes, I'm afraid so. There's no easy way to say this, so I'll just be blunt: Peter Pettigrew is dead."

"What?" Jasmine and Hermione gasped together.

Amelia nodded. "We questioned him about what happened in 1981, and he confirmed what you told us. Then we started asking him about recent events, and the silver hand broke free and strangled him. Three aurors struggled to stop that hand and save him, but nothing they did worked. I'm sorry."

"What about Barty Crouch?" Jasmine asked. "Wasn't he able to help?"

Amelia shook her head sadly. "Unfortunately, the treatment he endured broke his mind. We know he must have been involved with getting his son out of Azkaban, and for that he should be imprisoned as well, but he'll simply end up a permanent resident of St. Mungo's. There's no point in imprisoning a person who has no idea where they are."

"So... what does that mean?" Hermione asked. "I mean for the various investigations."

"The good news is that we have a transcript of an official interrogation under veritaserum with regards to what happened to your godfather," Amelia said. "That's not as good as being able to question him in court, but it's still very useful. The bad news is that without having Peter in hand, it will be easier for Fudge to keep blocking any sort of trial. You shouldn't give up hope — it's still possible to make this work, but it will probably take longer now."

Jasmine nodded, then asked, "And the investigation into what happened to me?"

"Unfortunately, that's stalled a bit," Amelia admitted. "His testimony probably would have helped a lot, but now we're back to square one. I still have leads to follow up on, but Fudge is making that harder to do. I'll be sure to notify you when anything changes."

"Thanks," Jasmine said, "I appreciate you letting me know so much." Amelia nodded and wished the two young witches a happy summer before returning to Susan and Hannah.

Finally Jasmine and Hermione stepped through the barrier and entered the muggle side of King's Cross Station, as always incredibly busy with muggles racing back and forth all over the place. Fortunately the crowded, hectic nature of the station made it easy for two witches with a trunk each, an owl, and a cat to slip through unnoticed.

As soon as they were walking among muggles, Jasmine experienced an almost overwhelming urge to reach out and grab Hermione's hand. _Why shouldn't I?_ Jasmine asked herself. _We're out of the bigoted, narrow-minded wizarding world now. There are no wizards or witches around to screech in horror. So why don't I just..._

"Mum! Dad!" Hermione cried out as she stepped away from the trolleys.

 _Ah, yes — that's why_ , Jasmine thought sourly.

She watched a bit wistfully as Hermione hugged two adults whom she recognized as her parents — a woman whose face had the same shape as Hermione's, and a man from whom Hermione had clearly inherited her unfortunate hair — not that Jasmine could criticize. Even though the hugs were a bit quick and seemed to lack much feeling, it was still more than Jasmine had ever been able to experience, and it caused a lot of emotion to unexpectedly bubble up inside of her.

 _Get yourself together_ , Jasmine berated herself as the three Grangers approached her. _This is your first real chance to interact with them. You have to not only impress your girlfriend's parents without letting on that the two of you are a couple, but you have to lay some more groundwork for helping those three get over their problems. So, yeah, no pressure or anything..._

"Mum, dad, this is my best friend, Jasmine Potter," Hermione said. "You met her briefly a couple of years ago." Turning to Jasmine she continued, "Jasmine, these are my parents, Dr. Lindsey Granger and Dr. Emma Granger."

Jasmine held out her hand, suddenly feeling sympathy for boys who had to go through this sort of thing any number of times. "Hello, Dr. Granger, Dr. Granger." Hermione's father shook her hand, but her mother pulled her into a tight hug, letting Jasmine know where Hermione got her hugging strength from.

"Don't worry about the 'doctor' title, just use Mr. and Mrs.," Mrs. Granger said as she broke the hug. "It's so good to finally meet you properly! We never got a chance to talk when we first met you."

"Do you have to rush off?" Mr. Granger asked. "We'd be happy to take you to an early supper, if you have time."

Before Jasmine could answer, a loud voice rang out behind her. "Girl! There you are! How dare you make us wait!"

"That's my Uncle Vernon," Jasmine said softly while looking down at her feet. "I really need to get going. Thank you for the invitation, but I can't accept."

Hermione launched herself at Jasmine and pulled her into an especially tight hug. "Don't worry, luv," she whispered into her girlfriend's ear. "We'll get you as soon as we can."

"Thanks," Jasmine said with a smile as they pulled apart.

"Girl!" Vernon shouted again. "Hurry up!"

"Bye, Hermione," Jasmine said as she moved to her trolley. "Bye, Mr. and Mrs. Granger." Starting to walk away, head bowed low, she called out, "Coming, Uncle Vernon."

Hermione couldn't prevent a few tears from escaping as she watched Jasmine be grabbed roughly by the shoulder while she walked with her uncle out of the station. Her mother put her arm around Hermione's shoulders and asked, "She doesn't have it very good at home, does she?" Hermione could only shake her head, not trusting her voice. "Come on, we'll talk about it in the car on the way home."

Meanwhile, Jasmine's summer was starting like her summer holidays always did: verbal abuse and a bit of rough handling. It wasn't anything that she wasn't used to, but she was struggling to shove aside her typical meekness and trying to focus on her recent declaration to never be a victim again. If she could manage it, then by the time they reached Privet Drive, maybe she could force some changes in how things worked.

One way or another, it was going to be a long, long summer.


End file.
